


Truth Be Told (I Never Was Yours)

by JustForTommo



Category: One Direction
Genre: Aftercare, Angst, Bottom Harry, Cheating, Cuddles after sex, Fate, Homophobic Language, Light Dom/sub, Lots of Angst, M/M, Slurs, Subspace, Top Louis, True Love, Underage Sex, all that jazz, also shamless song lyric and quote references, and i also don't condone cheating, and they once loved each other, and ziam is a side pairing and totally cute, as always, but i'm going to try to keep up with it, but they don't anymore, but they pretend they don't anymore, i don't think aiden is a bad person, i love subspace harry ok, in later chapters there will be some, it's all rather angsty tbh, it's also my first fic on here, louis and harry used to date, slowburn love story, there's going to be smut, verbal abuse from a parental figure, zayn is louis rock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-01-27 15:51:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 76,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1716161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustForTommo/pseuds/JustForTommo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry watches Louis as he scrunches up his nose and bites the end of a pen in concentration. He’s been working on seating arrangements for the past hour and getting more frustrated by the minute. Louis huffs out a breath and glances down at Harry with a soft smile on his lips before he returns to the task at hand. It’s easy, right then, for Harry to let himself believe that they’re planning a seating chart for their own wedding and bickering over who is going to sit where from a list of their own family members. He can let himself daydream about a white picket fence and a dog that they could have within the next year.</p><p>It’s like a cold slap in the face when Harry looks to the top of the page to see “Aiden and Louis Grimshaw” at the head table, and Harry has to mentally remind himself for the thousandth time that Louis is not his. Never was, really. He’s just the wedding planner that’s been in love with Louis since he was sixteen.</p><p>(or the one where Louis and Harry have a complicated past, Louis is getting married to someone that’s not Harry, and the universe has decided to have a laugh and make Harry the wedding planner.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Seeing You Again

**Author's Note:**

> [Italian Translation](http://www.efpfanfic.net/viewstory.php?sid=2925708)  
> [Russian Translation](https://ficbook.net/readfic/3277665)  
> [Portuguese Translation](https://wattpad.com/story/44439026-truth-be-told-i-never-was-yours-portuguese-version)  
> [Polish Translation (Tumblr Version)](http://amadeleinethings.tumblr.com/post/128402777488/truth-be-told-i-never-was-yours-masterpost)  
> [Polish Translation (AO3 Version)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5613202/chapters/12932116)  
>   [I have also created a playlist for this story!](http://8tracks.com)
> 
> [Come say hi on Tumblr!](http://donnyscheshire.tumblr.com)

_“It was funny how all the useless knowledge you accumulated_  
 _when you're in love with someone could sit for years_  
 _gathering dust in the back of your mind,_  
 _only to spill out at the slightest reminder.”_

_― Blakney Francis_

* * *

It’s late and the stars are shining high in the sky. The lights from the lamp posts reflect on the rushing water of the Thames, and Louis is happy. He is. He’s got his hand laced with a fit boy, a boy he’s been dating for almost a year now, and they’ve just come from an incredibly romantic dinner. The late spring air is cooling down for the night and Louis presses closer to the side of his boy, leaning his temple on his shoulder. It’s a lovely evening and Louis is happy. He is.

Louis is abruptly pulled to a stop and out of his musing when his boyfriend stops walking. He stares up into warm brown eyes and smiles fondly at the way the wind pushes his hair into his eyes. Louis can feel the nervous energy radiating off of him and squeezes his hand for comfort.

“Louis,” he says, “I wanted to talk to you about something. Well, ask you something, I guess.” Louis holds his breath. “We’ve been together for a while now and I think you are such a wonderful person. So fit and strong and bright. I’m so glad that I’ve gotten to know you over the past few years and I love you so much. I really do. I guess what I’m trying to ask is,” there’s a long pause, “will you marry me?”

Louis stares at him and quickly shuts his gaping mouth to make sure no unwanted words come out. It’s not like he didn’t expect this to happen. They’d been together for nearly a year and this seems like the next logical step, but Louis’ mind is going a hundred miles a minute. He feels completely overwhelmed, not because of the proposal, per say, but by  fact that the 25 year old man in front of him has suddenly transformed into a curly headed 17 year old boy with bright eyes and crater-like dimples.

_Stay with me. Be with me. Grow old with me. Even as young as we are._

And no. Louis is not doing this right now. He has designated a locked box in his head for such memories and that is where the bright eyed boy is supposed to stay. Louis takes a deep breath and mentally pushes the memories back into the box, seals it tight, and stores it in a dead bolted closet in the back of his mind. No.

Louis smiles up at the man in front of him, trying his best to ignore his moment of weakness. He lets himself feel the cool wind passing by his cheeks and grounds himself in the smell of sharp cologne that smells nothing like apples and sandalwood, and pulls himself together. It feels like hours before Louis can speak again, but it’s only been a few seconds.

“Yes, of course I’ll marry you Aiden,” Louis says.

Aiden pulls Louis into a tight hug and fits their lips together. Louis melts into the warm pressure of Aiden’s body, and smiles into the kiss. This is where he belongs. It is.

* * *

 

“You’re getting married?” is the first thing out of Liam’s mouth. He sounds so incredulous that Louis wants to laugh. He doesn’t. This is a serious matter, after all.

“To Aiden.” It’s not a question and by the look on Zayn’s face he’s not at all impressed.

“Yes, to Aiden,” Louis says. He’s sitting on the couch and trying to look anywhere but his friends faces. He turns to the TV and pulls a blanket onto his lap so his hands have something to play with. It’s drafty in the flat that the three of them share and Louis thinks idly of the posh flat Aiden just bought and if that’s where they’ll live when they get married.

Louis looks up to see Zayn and Liam having a silent conversation and Louis shakes his head. This whole them being able to read each other’s minds thing is really inconvenient, especially at times like this. They used to not have these silent conversations as much, but that’s before they got together. It’s been a long, silent conversation type of year for Louis and he’s tired of it.

“Hey, I’m still in the room,” Louis says, throwing a remote at them. They’re even cuddling on the giant cushiony chair Liam picked up from the side of the road right after they’d moved into the flat and needed something to sit on. Fresh out of uni and flat broke, Liam knew how to provide for his boys. Now Louis wishes the stupid chair was never found.

“We know,” Zayn drawls. He sighs and gets up from his place beside Liam and sit down next to Louis. The couch sags and Louis instinctively leans into Zayn’s side. “This is what you want?”

There’s no judgment behind the words and Louis knows that Liam and Zayn will support him if he tells them to. Louis does want this. He wants to get married. Maybe when he was younger he wanted to go out and travel the world instead of being tied down and the thought of marriage terrified him, but now he wants a picket fence and kids. He’s got a boring, steady, desk job and two best friends who will stand by him through better or worse. He’s ready for this.

“Yes,” Louis says, concentrating on the warmth of Zayn’s side against his. “Yes I am.”

Zayn considers Louis for a long moment and Louis knows why. Zayn’s known Louis for longer than he can remember, and they know everything about each other. Even the deep dark secrets. Zayn knows about the bright eyed boy that Louis tries to keep locked away from his thoughts. Whatever Zayn sees on Louis face seems to make his defenses drop, however, and he hugs Louis tight and kisses the top of his head. “Ok then.” Louis lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and snuggles further into Zayn’s touch.

Liam seems to take his cue from Zayn because he gets up and sits on the other side of Louis and hugs his other side. They’re a mess of limbs and Louis feels smothered and crushed by their love. He never wants to move.

“So, when can we start planning the wedding?” Liam asks into Louis ear. His tone has brightened significantly and while he may not understand the reason Zayn was so hesitant with Louis’ decision, he seems to trust that Zayn being ok with the wedding is enough reason for him to be on board as well.

Louis laughs and moves out from under them. “Well, Aiden’s set up an appointment with this wedding planner person at a possible venue he wants to look at. We’re meeting him tomorrow.”

Liam seems thrilled with the idea of having something new to plan for and Louis just shakes his head at him. Liam loves making and having a plan, very detailed oriented, and Louis hates it. They actually hated each other when they first met in Uni until Zayn became a common link for them and they managed to put their differences aside. Now, Louis is thankful he has someone so detailed oriented on his side. Wedding planning can be a bitch.

They don’t talk about the wedding anymore, but opt to put in the new Spiderman movie that Zayn pirated off of the internet. It’s just this side of too romantic and mushy, but Louis loves it. He’s a true romantic at heart and will go to his grave telling everyone otherwise. When Gwen starts to fall from the gear ledge, Louis subtly buries his face into his hands and feels Zayn’s fingers run through his hair in a soft, comforting gesture. Liam squeezes his ankle where he’s got his feet propped up on his lap. Louis loves them very much.

* * *

 

The venue is gorgeous. The grass is cut to an even green carpet the feels fluffy when he steps on it, and the bushes are trimmed to perfection, not a stray leaf in sight. Flowers line the cobbled walkway that runs from the back porch of a grand hall where a reception can be held, to a giant archway that imitates winding branches joining at the top in a perfect union. It’s all very beautiful and fairytale-styled and it’s nothing that Louis wants.

Maybe it’s because Aiden came to pick him up from the flat at 8am and Louis doesn’t do mornings. At all. Maybe it’s the fact that a bee is buzzing beside Louis and he really doesn’t think his sleep deprived brain can deal with such a threat this early. Maybe it’s because Aiden hadn’t wanted to stop at the shop down the road from Louis flat for Louis’ morning cuppa and Louis is always bitter when he doesn’t get his tea. He’s not sure what it is, but Louis loathes this venue. It is what it is.

And Aiden seems to love all this fairytale nonsense.

They’ve just gotten past the front gate, fancy iron that just reeks of the money they’re going to have to fork over if they decide to get married here, when Louis hears a loud peel of laughter coming from inside the main building. He turns his head to see a man with what appears to be naturally dark hair that’s been bleached at the tips, bent over and slapping his knee as he nearly cries from laughing. The man stands up after a moment and fixes his shirt before glancing over and spotting Louis and Aiden. He smiles, bright white teeth glinting in the sun like a fucking movie, and literally bounces over to them.

“Wey hey, how are you doing today?” the man asks excitedly, booming voice making Louis’ mind wake up significantly.

Aiden extends his hand to the man as he says, “Hello, I’m Aiden and this is Louis, and we’re here to meet a wedding planner.”

“I’m Niall,” he says, shaking Aiden’s hand and then pulls Louis into a hug before he can be offered a hand to shake. Louis lets out a squawk of surprise but manages to attempt a one armed hug in return. “Right, so I’m a wedding planner, but I think you’re meant to be meeting my business partner. He’s just inside there. You’ll love him, he’s the best.”

Niall is very Irish, very loud, and very bubbly. He reminds Louis of an excited puppy. He doesn’t seem to have the ability to make a “th” sound so he ends up saying “tink” and “da” and Louis is instantly endeared. Being from Docaster, he knows the struggles of having an accent and suddenly wants to hear Niall talking all day long and let his own northern accent reign free. Louis’ dark mood is dissipating by the second just being in this guy’s presence.

“Thank you,” Aiden says, grabbing Louis’ hand and lacing their fingers together.

He pulls Louis away from Niall and Niall waves at them as they pass, smiling bright and easy. Louis takes his eyes off Niall only to watch where he’s going so he doesn’t fall and embarrass himself, and heads up the stairs and into the building Niall pointed to. It’s all white with a glass wall that looks out over the venue, a great spot for a reception, if Louis had any interest in something so fancy.

There’s only one person standing in the large room, and he has a back to them as they enter. As they walk closer, the man must hear them because he turns around, and Louis is pretty sure he’s about to puke. He immediately drops Aiden’s hand and while Aiden turns to give him a funny look, Louis can’t seem to stop staring at the man in front of him. He’s completely stopped walking at this point and Aiden grabs his hand again to pull him forward. He doesn’t tell his feet that they’re allowed to move forward, but they do anyway and suddenly he’s within mere feet of someone he thought he’d never see again.

The universe must be laughing its ass off at Louis right now.

“You must be the wedding planner, I’m Aiden Grimshaw, nice to meet you,” Aiden says, sticking out his hand just as he did with Niall.

“Yes,” says the man, voice low and gruff enough that Louis can hear the emotion he’s fighting back. How sick is that? That even six years later, Louis can still hear every uneven cadence in his voice and know what he’s feeling. “My name is Harry Styles, nice to meet you.”

Harry hasn’t taken his eyes off of Louis this entire time, even when he shakes Aiden’s hand, and Louis doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. That dead-bolted door that’s supposed to hold the stacks upon stacks of forbidden boxes in his head has flown wide open and everything is spilling out. Warm summer kisses, late night phone calls, hands in curls, hushed groans in the dead of night, mouthed _I love you_ ’s searing into heated skin. All of it.

Louis has a choice, he can either run away and tell Aiden to find another wedding planner, or he can be a man and suck it up. It’s a tough choice seeing as every fiber of Louis’ being is telling him to get the fuck out of there, but both Harry and Aiden are watching him and he doesn’t want to be a coward.

Aiden coughs awkwardly and says, “And this is my fiancé, Louis,” and nudges him to do something.

Louis still doesn’t know what to do.

“Oh, yes, hi. Louis, Louis Tomlinson. Nice to meet you,” he says, and hesitates a moment before sticking out his hand.

And Louis hates himself. Not only is he sticking around (stupid) but he’s also just made the decision that he’s going to pretend he doesn’t even know Harry (really fucking stupid).

He knows he’s made the complete wrong decision when Harry’s pretty green eyes become hard and cold. Harry grabs Louis hand, engulfing his tiny hand in his larger ones, and squeezes so tightly Louis thinks his bones might break. There’s murder in Harry’s eyes and Louis knows he’s fucked up, royally fucked up, but he can’t take it back. Because he’s Harry, he loosens his grip in the last moment and runs his finger over Louis pulse point on his wrist as he lets their hands drop away from each other. Louis definitely wants to throw up now.

“Soon to be Louis Grimshaw, babe,” Aiden says, and Louis jolts at his voice. He’d momentarily forgotten he was even there.

Harry looks down and clears his throat before stepping away from them. He pastes a smile onto his face that doesn’t bring out the dimples that Louis knows feel like gaping holes in his cheeks if you poke them, and his eyes are duller than they should be. He claps his hands together once and turns around to face out the window.

“Right, so here is the main banquet hall. If you choose to have your marriage here, the catering is provided already. We have a personal chef that comes out and prepares the meal. It’ll be buffet style. I don’t know what you’re looking for, but that’s what they serve here.”

Harry is gesturing around the room as he talks, eyes staying as far away from Louis’ gaze as possible. Aiden is drinking in Harry’s words and nodding as he talks, as if he thinks this is the most interesting narration known to man. Louis really just wants the ground beneath his feet to open and swallow him whole.

They follow Harry outside and onto the patio where the isle begins.

“Over there on the field, if you want to have an outdoor reception instead of something inside, we can have white tents set up for food and tables for the guests. We have fairy lights that can be wound around the poles of the tents as well to set up ambiance or whatever. The aisle would start here, and whichever one of you is going to walk down the aisle --” Harry meets Louis gaze at that one and Louis wants to scream.

_I’ll walk down the aisle to you with one of them flower crowns in my hair._

_You’ll be so gorgeous Hazza, look like a proper cherub._

 “--Will start here and walk down the path to the altar,” Harry continues after his pause to stare meaningfully at Louis. “There’s room enough for a quartet if that’s something you’re into. There’s also a sound system set up if you just want to play audio.”

Aiden’s taking it all in and Louis’ taking Harry in. Harry must know he’s staring because he’s fidgeting with the bracelet on his wrist and doing everything possible to keep his eyes averted. Harry’s changed so much and Louis’ heart aches. He’s no longer the 17 year old boy that Louis once knew. His shoulders have broadened, he’s gotten taller, his feet have become more pigeon-toed. His hair that used to be a mass of curls has now turned more into waves, and he’s got it all wrapped up in a headscarf. He’s wearing a loose fitted black t-shirt with a swooping neckline that shows off a chest tattoo he definitely didn’t have when Louis last saw him. In fact, Harry’s whole left arm is smattered in tattoos, tattoos that mostly look like a 5 year old doodled on him, but still. It’s a lot of ink. Not that Louis can judge seeing as his right arm is covered in them as well, but that’s something he wasn’t expecting.

Well, he was never expecting to see Harry Styles ever again, but life just seems to want to fuck Louis over so, what can you do?

Harry’s also wearing black skinny jeans that look more like jeggings than actual jeans and Louis isn’t even sure how he managed to fit into them, they look so tight. Maybe he’s finally stopped with this whole wanting kids thing and decided that his dick could just suffocate. The jeans also have holes in both the knees and Louis shakes his head because Harry has always been hopeless when it comes to keeping his clothes nice and mended.

Louis is pulled out of his ogling when Aiden says “I love this place! What about you, Louis?”

Louis shakes his head and tears his eyes away from Harry to look around the venue. “Um, it’s alright, I guess.”

“What do you mean, alright? It’s gorgeous!”

“It’s quite…big.” He thinks he might hear Harry snort under his breath, but he’s not sure.

“Yeah! That’s the point! Big wedding and all that.”

“Um…how many people are you planning on having at the wedding?” Harry asks, looking at Aiden.

“At least 500,” Aiden says, with a shrug as if that number is not entirely outrageous. Harry shoots a shocked look at Louis before seeming to remember that they aren’t actually friends anymore and he shouldn’t be having conversations with his eyes, and looks away.

“ _500?”_ Louis sputters out, gaping at Aiden. “I don’t even know 500 people!”

“Sure we do! We have all of our family, and the people from the office, and your friends, and my friends.”

Louis can see Harry watching them intently from the corner of his eye. He wishes they’d discussed this earlier and not in front of Harry where he can sit and observe them. Louis turns back to look at Harry properly while Aiden rambles about who he wants to invite. The list is growing past 500 now and Louis cannot deal with this. He suddenly really wishes they could have stopped for tea.

“Do you have tea?” he blurts out. Aiden stops talking and Harry arches his eyebrow at him.

“Um…yeah. I can get you some,” Harry says, almost like a question.

Harry walks back into the building while Louis turns to Aiden and takes a deep breath. “I want a small wedding, Aiden. Just you, me, Zayn and Liam, our families, some of your friends. There’s no need to make a big fuss of it.”

“But we only get married once, and I want to make it a grand spectacle. You know I don’t do anything half-assed.”

“I know, but I think it would mean more if we had it be a small ceremony. Just with people who we actually care about.”

Louis has always hated the idea of large weddings. Too many fake people who just want an excuse to dress up and take pictures. A wedding is supposed to be intimate and having 500 plus people staring at him is anything but.

Aiden considers him for a moment before sighing. “Yeah, ok. I guess we can keep it small. Our families are pretty big though, what with you and all your siblings.”

Louis shrugs. “What are you going to do? Little monsters, all of them.”

Aiden chuckles and pulls Louis into a hug. He presses a kiss to Louis hair and bends down to give him a proper kiss. Right when Louis feels their lips slide together, he hears a cough behind him. He pulls back and turns to see Harry holding a cup of tea.

Louis takes a step away from Aiden and absolutely does not blush. Nope. Not at all. He takes the cup that Harry offers and hesitantly looks at it, like it might bite him. He’s suddenly reminded of how much he hates other people making him tea unless he trusts their tea-making skills. There are only a few places he’ll get his tea from and only a few people he trusts to make him a cuppa. It’s all very serious business.

“Oh God, let’s see how this turns out. Louis doesn’t let anyone make him tea. Don’t be offended if he spits it out,” Aiden warns.

Louis looks up to see Harry watching him, a question in his eyes. It hits Louis suddenly that Harry’s waiting for his approval. Harry’s always yearned for Louis’ approval and it appears that some things never change. Louis takes a sip, making sure to blow the steaming liquid first, and smiles as he swallows. No sugar and a little milk. Harry remembered.

“Perfect,” Louis nearly purrs and watches as Harry preens under the compliment.

“Oh wow, that never happens,” Aiden mumbles to himself.

Harry must realize what he’s doing because then he coughs awkwardly and straightens his back defensively. “Well, have you decided the guest count?”

“Small,” Louis says before taking another sip. It’s delicious and exactly what Louis needed to help settle his nerves.

“Good.” Harry’s looking at Louis again as if he approves of Louis this time.

Louis feels a hot coil in his stomach under Harry’s gaze and looks back down at the murky brown liquid in his cup. Harry seems pleased that Louis got his way with the small guest list and Louis doesn’t know how to process this information.

“Alright, well I’ll look into smaller venues to show you in the future. I’ve actually got another appointment coming up, so I have to go,” Harry says, rubbing his hands together.

“Yeah, good to meet you,” Aiden says with a small wave.

“Yeah it was nice to…meet you,” Harry murmurs, staring straight at Louis.

Louis feels like shit, he really does. His emotions are going every direction right now and he just wants to go home and snuggle with Zayn. Zayn will make it better. The warm cup in his hands seems to be grounding him a little, and Louis has the presence of mind to try to smile at Harry before he turns away.  Aiden leads Louis to the car and when they’re pulling past the gate, Louis spots Harry leaning against the banquet hall door and watching their car with a stormy expression on his face.

This is the second time that Louis has driven away as Harry Styles stands in the doorway staring after him, and Louis has to bite his cheek to keep from screaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Thank you so much to my wonderful Betas, Taylor and Tabby
> 
> The song that inspired the title and tone of this story is This Is Gospel (Piano Version) by Panic! At the Disco
> 
> Come say hi on tumblr - donnyscheshire
> 
> I started an [8tracks](http://8tracks.com) for my story, so you should go listen to it!


	2. Rain and Cigarettes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Louis and Harry have a complicated past, Louis is getting married to someone that’s not Harry, and the universe has decided to have a laugh and make Harry the wedding planner.

 

_As you turn to your mind,_  
 _And your thoughts they rewind,_  
 _To old happenings and things that are done,_  
 _You can't find what's passed,_  
 _Make that happiness last,_  
 _Seeing from those eyes what you become,_

_-Bastille_

* * *

 It’s raining and it’s cold in his room as he listens to droplets of water pelt his window. It’s roughly 2 in the morning and Louis can’t sleep. He’s been lying in his bed, twisted up in cotton sheets, since midnight, staring at the ceiling fan go in circles. His skin feels itchy and his body is thrumming with a kind of energy he doesn’t know what to do with. He doesn’t have the energy to actually get out of bed yet, but it’s a near thing. The blades spinning above his head are calming to watch and his mind goes blissfully numb as he focuses on keeping his eye on one specific blade as it goes in circles. He starts to feel a bit dizzy and has to look over at the wall.

His eyes fall on his dresser in the far corner and can just make out the pictures in the frames that adorn it. There’s a picture of Zayn, him, and Liam with gelato all over their faces, sitting in a gondola a few summers back when they’d decided to blow their savings and take a few days to tour Venice and soak in the culture. They’d gotten lost in the winding streets and the center of the small town had made the sweltering heat sticky on their skin. The little gelato place they’d found along the Grand Canal was a Godsend and they’d decided that a picture of the mess they’d made would be the best way to remember the day. Louis smiles and tries to snuggle further into his covers, but the sheets twist too tightly around his torso and he feels like he might suffocate.

There’s a picture next to the one from Italy of Doris and Ernest when they were first born and Louis had rushed to the hospital to hold them first – big brother rights and all that – with the twins swaddled in pink and blue blankets and Louis staring down at them like they held the secrets to the universe. He remembers that day because right as he was about to leave, Harry had run through the door and almost come slamming into him with a blinding smile and bouncing curls, and had demanded he get to hold the new Tomlinsons. Future sibling-in-laws he’d called them. Louis remembers watching Harry with his new brother and sister, how he’d smiled and cooed at them and called them precious little names as they fell asleep. Harry had always wanted kids, had told Louis on multiple occasions that he and Louis would have to have lots of little tots running around the house he was planning on buying one day. Yeah, because that was realistic. Louis had watched him and thought of the future and felt a sick sliver of dread work its way up his throat. Harry, his firm, steady, Harry knew what he wanted and didn’t seem scared at all at the fact that they were only 17 and 19 and had nothing to their names. Louis wasn’t like that. He didn’t know if he could do it. Settle down, raise a family. Surely Harry must realize that, but then he’d looked up at Louis from where he was leaning over the twins and talking to Jay, and Louis could see it, just for a moment, see the life they would have. Family Christmases, sit-down dinners, kids playing in the backyard, a dog sleeping by the fireplace.

That’s the first time that Louis ran from Harry. He didn’t run far, just down the street to the tattoo shop that Zayn was working at as a cashier, but he’d ran all the same.

Louis stretches and tries to stop thinking about Harry. It doesn’t work. He’ll never admit it, not even to Zayn, but he’s thought of Harry at least once a day since he left Doncaster. Sometimes, Louis thinks that Zayn knows how much Harry still plays a part in his life. Louis will be listening to the radio and a song will come on that will make him think of Harry, and he will try to be all subtle and change the radio station, and Liam will make a noise of protest from the backseat because it’s his new favorite song and Zayn will stay quiet and reach over and squeeze Louis’ shoulder as if to physically remind him to stay in the present. Zayn never says anything, and Louis never shares.

Louis sighs, long and suffering, trying to push out all the old memories with one solid breath. It doesn’t work. He hoists himself up and out of bed and pads over to the dresser, pulling out an oversized jumper and a pair of joggers. He feels warm and cozy surrounded by the fuzzy clothes and wraps his arms around himself. God, he’s pathetic. He hasn’t felt this emotional over his past in years.

All it took was for Harry Styles to come traipsing back into his life.

Louis walks out of his room and makes sure to avoid the creaky spot on the floor as he passes Liam and Zayn’s room. He sees Zayn’s leather jacket draped over a kitchen chair and rifles through the pockets until he’s got his hand around a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. The flat has a small balcony, barely enough room to even stand, and Louis can see the rain falling in sheets through the glass door that leads outside. It’s stupid and pathetic and really just a scene for the movies, but he walks out onto the balcony and lets the rain wash over him. He knows he’ll probably catch a cold if he stays out for long, but the water rushing into his face and the bite of the night air forces his mind to clear. He sits down, pants already becoming soggy and gross, and sticks his legs through the slats in the railing to dangle his feet over the side. It takes a few tries, but the lighter eventually lights the cigarette and Louis takes a long, even puff. He’s not normally a smoker, but tonight he relishes in the feel of the heavy smoke sliding down his throat and burning his lungs. The smoke comes out through his nose, like an angry bull, and he takes another drag. He watches the lit embers at the end of the cigarette as they eat through the tobacco and wrapping and inch their way towards his fingers.

Louis starts to shiver but can’t bring himself to leave. He deserves this. He wants the rain to wash away the memory of Harry standing in the rain as he screamed for Louis to come back to him. Maybe this is what Harry felt like, maybe just a little, with the rain pouring on his head and his chest feeling tight and constricted, throat clenching around words he’ll never get to say.

Louis shakes his head to rid himself of that memory and takes another drag. He tries to blow a smoke ring and fails. Zayn’s tried to teach him a handful of times, but he’s never been able to get the hang of it. He watches the smoke curl itself through the atmosphere and sink into the walls around him. The rain is starting to let up, just a little, and Louis can see someone stumbling down the sidewalk, drunkenly, with their hands held over their head as if it’ll protect them from heaven’s crying. Louis snorts and continues to smoke.

The rain reminds him of the first time he ever kissed Harry. It was the night that Louis had scored the winning goal during the football tournament at school. The crowd had cried out their praises and he’d been lifted up by his teammates, laughing and screaming with exhilaration. He’d looked over at the crowd and spotted Harry screaming at the top of his lungs with Zayn grabbing him by the nape of the neck and shaking him. Louis had never felt so happy in his life. Well, that was until that night when he noticed that Harry had waited around while he showered and changed after the game so that they could walk home together. Harry couldn’t stop babbling about how proud he was of Louis and Louis couldn’t stop grinning so much that it hurt his cheeks and he felt like his face was going to split in two. Harry had walked him to his door right as the first roll of thunder broke through the sky, causing them both to jump. They’d stared at each other for a long moment before Harry took a deep, shaky breath and leaned down to fit his lips to Louis’.

It really wasn’t anything special. Harry’s lips were chapped and he was only 16 and didn’t have much practice with kissing boys goodnight. Louis had reached up to run his fingers along Harry’s jawline and felt Harry exhale through his nose, warm air caressing his lips and face. It was chaste and only lasted a few seconds before Harry had pulled back and mumbled his goodnight before racing down the sidewalk. Louis stared after him, watching his curls bob and slowly stick to his head as rain started to fall.

Thinking back, it probably should have been a sign to Louis that this was going to tear him to pieces, split him into fragments like the lighting split the clouds.

The rain has mostly stopped by the time Louis hears the door open behind him. He glances up, shivering from the cold, to see Zayn looking down at him. He doesn’t give him any pitiful looks or anything. He’s just studying Louis, eyes roaming over Louis' face and shaking frame. He comes to sit down beside him and drapes an arm over Louis' shoulder to pull him closer. Louis buries himself into Zayn, breathing in the fading smell of expensive cologne that he tends to splurge on when they really should be saving for groceries, stale cigarettes, and old leather. Louis is still holding the end of his cigarette, long burned out and soggy, but he can’t seem to open his hand to let it drop to the sidewalk below. Zayn reaches out and does it for him before grabbing the pack of cigarettes that Louis had stuffed into his pocket to try to keep them from the rain. He slips out another cigarette and sets the tip ablaze with a long inhale. 

Zayn puffs relentlessly, not waiting to enjoy the smoke filling his lungs before he exhales, and Louis watches the smoke float over his face. Zayn only smokes like this when he’s on edge and Louis suddenly feels even more horrible because he’s dragging Zayn into his personal mess once again. Zayn and Harry had been really close when they all lived in Doncaster, but once Louis ran like the devil was nipping at his heels, Zayn followed and left Harry behind, too. Sure, they’d kept up some contact, but it wasn’t the same. Louis notices the dark circles under Zayn’s eyes and reaches up to try to smudge them away, but Zayn just traps his fingers in his own and squeezes tight. Liam isn’t the only one that can have a silent conversation with Zayn. . Zayn blows a perfect smoke ring in Louis’ face. Bastard.

It’s a long time before Louis can move his tongue and keep his teeth from chattering, even being pressed against the comforting warmth of Zayn’s side.

“Why am I so pathetic?” Louis asks into the fabric of Zayn’s shirt.

“You’re not pathetic,” Zayn says. He takes another drag, this time trapping the smoke into his lungs for an extended beat before exhaling with a sigh. “It’s Harry.”

It’s so simple. Those two words: It’s Harry. The meaning behind them could be the inspiration for sonnets and drawn out declarations and an encyclopedia citing 20 pages long, however. The phrase encompasses everything that’s wrong with Louis. Harry Styles was the first boy he ever loved. He loved him so fiercely that sometimes he couldn’t even see straight, and it was the most terrifying and rewarding experience of his life. He’s never loved anyone as much as he loves Harry. Loved. Loved Harry.

Harry was Louis shining sun when his family was falling apart and was his anchor the night the man who raised him shouted he’d had enough and stormed out the Tomlinson household for good. Harry was the steady hand on his back when he told his mother with tears in his eyes that he loved Harry and that Harry was a boy so that meant he liked boys instead of girls and begged her to still love him. She did, of course, and she’d given him the biggest hug of his life, and then pulled Harry in to join them. Harry was so much to Louis and when Louis had sped off from Harry’s house the night he finally snapped, it was like he was splitting himself in half and leaving a part of himself behind.

“I don’t want it to be Harry,” Louis says in a pained whisper. Zayn’s fingers trail through his sopping wet hair.

“I know babes, I know.” Zayn kisses the top of Louis head and Louis is so so thankful for Zayn.

“I love Aiden,” Louis says, louder. He pulls himself away from Zayn and sits up as tall as he can. It’s a defensive gesture, but screw it.

“I know,” Zayn answers and his eyes watch Louis’ every move.

“I love him and I’m going to marry him. Aiden. I’m going to marry Aiden. It’s what’s best for me.”

Zayn doesn’t say anything, just watches Louis and takes another puff of his cigarette.

“I’m going to marry Aiden. I was fine with marrying Aiden before Harry fucking Styles walked back into my life.” Louis lets out a harsh laugh. “After the wedding, Harry’s going to be gone again. It’ll be fine.”

Zayn finally looks away from Louis and down to the sidewalk below. It’s empty save for a cat that’s looking for food in the nearby dumpster. Maybe Louis should get a cat. Maybe it’ll help. Maybe Aiden will like a cat as well. It can be their love child like that stupid love fern from that one movie he’d seen a long time ago.

“Aiden doesn’t deserve me crying over some boy I knew 6 years ago, for God’s sake,” Louis says in a self-deprecating tone. “I’ll suck it up and we’ll get through this and I’ll be the best husband I can be to Aiden.”

Zayn nods but still doesn’t say anything. Louis wants to smack him or something just to get a reaction. He’s not speaking just to hear himself talk. He’s not trying to convince himself of any of this. He’s not. He’s trying to convince Zayn.

“We should go inside. Your lips are blue,” Zayn mumbles and stands up, offering a hand that Louis takes to drag himself up. His legs are numb and he stumbles. “Out here in the bloody cold rain. Going to kill yourself Tommo.”

“Not with you here, Zaynie,” Louis says, sweet smile gracing his lips. “You love me too much to let me die.”

Zayn gives him an unimpressed look but ushers him inside like a mother hen anyway. They walk back to their respective bedrooms and this time, Louis is able to sleep, if not fitfully. The only problem is that he dreams of deep dimples and mile long legs.

* * *

 

All Louis can focus on is the leather jacket in front of him and the warm hand holding his behind him. He’s sandwiched between Aiden and Zayn as they push through the crowded club, Liam leading the pack by muscling past people to create a path. It’s been a long week at work and an even longer week trapped in Louis’ mind, and it’s time for lots and lots of alcohol and dirty, loud music.

They finally make their way to the bar and, as tradition, they all hand their money to Zayn who walks up to the bar and bats his eyelashes at the bartender so they can get their drinks at top speed and reduced prices. Zayn’s ungodly pretty, something sculpted by the Greek gods, and Louis isn’t ashamed to say that he likes to abuse Zayn’s good looks in order to get alcohol. Liam does it too, so it’s probably alright for him to as well. Though, when Zayn gets back with drinks for everyone, Liam does put a protective arm around him and move into a stance that just screams  _mine._  It’s all rather domestic and cute and Louis wants to puke just looking at them. He does just that, making a show of retching and gagging over how cute they are. Liam flips him off and Zayn rolls his eyes.

Aiden’s ordered a dark draft that looks utterly gross and smells awful, but he takes a large gulp of it as he scans the crowd of dancers. Louis has opted for beer as well, something light that was advertised as having a bit of fruity taste to it, because he doesn’t want to be made fun of for buying a “girly drink,” as Aiden calls it. The drinks in all the bright colors are always so damn delicious, but they do tend to give off vibes of super gayness, so Louis sighs and takes a sip of beer. Beer is fine. Doesn’t get you drunk as fast, but it’ll do.

The club is stuffy and the music makes the floor shake and it’s everything that Louis needs right now. He downs his beer, not necessarily the best thing because it makes him burp obnoxiously and causes Aiden to side eye him, but he wants to go out and dance as soon as possible.

Right when he’s about to pull Aiden with him towards the swaying bodies, Liam yells “Niall!” and Louis whips his head around.

Sure enough, the blonde Irish puppy is scurrying over to them, beer in hand, and jumping onto Liam with a loud round of laughter. Liam embraces him tightly, lifting him off of the ground, and if they weren’t completely smushed together, Louis thinks he might even spin the boy around. Zayn’s eyeing Niall but there’s no malice behind it, so Louis doesn’t feel a need to intervene in the love fest. Liam sets Niall down and he’s still laughing, might not even come with an off switch, and only pauses his laughter for a moment to take a swig from his glass.

“Liam James Payne!” Niall nearly shouts. He has his arm wrapped tight around Liam’s neck and is swaying slightly. He’s clearly Irish, so Louis isn’t too worried about whether he can hold his liquor or not.

“Niall James Horan!” Liam reciprocates. “Guys, this is Niall, we had a few classes in Uni together. Remember, I told you about that crazy guy that liked to sing in the back of class?” Liam says, looking at Zayn and Louis.

“Oh yeah, that was you?” Zayn asks with an easy smile on his face and reaches out to shake Niall’s hand but that doesn’t seem to do, because Niall pulls Zayn into a hug. “I’m Zayn,” he says into Niall’s shoulder.

“Nice to meet you,” Niall says. “Louis! Aiden! Nice to see you two again! Lovely pair, the two of you.”

Liam raises his eyebrow at Louis as if to ask how he knows Niall when Aiden jumps in with a “Great to see you too, Niall.”

“He’s the other…uh…wedding planner. Works with um…” Louis stutters, doesn’t want to say Harry’s name because he still can’t seem to get the five letter word out without choking on it in front of anyone but Zayn.

“Harry, right, great lad!” Niall says excitedly. “He’s here with me tonight actually. Think he went to the bar to get another drink.” Niall whips his head back and forth and scans the crowd. “There he is! Harold!”

Louis freezes and locks eyes with Zayn who seems to be asking if he’s going to be ok, just by using his soft brown eyes. Louis nods slightly, trying not to act weird around the others, and turns to see Harry fighting his way through the crowd. He pushes through the last of the dancers and walks over to Niall without seeming to pay attention to the rest of the people around him. When he does take in who Niall is talking to, he falters for half step but keeps moving.

Harry spots Zayn and his eyes immediately light up. His steps quicken and Harry launches himself into Zayn’s open arms and Louis feels a painful twist in his torso. He wishes that Harry could still be that carefree with him, just pick up where they left off as if nothing ever happened. Well, that can’t happen obviously, because if they did that then they’d still be exchanging I love you’s into each other’s mouths and linked at the hip. Zayn pulls back with a blinding smile and Harry’s got that creepy frog face he gets when he’s smiling so hard his face is going to split in half. Louis can’t hear what they’re saying over the loud music since they’re speaking softly to each other, like two lovers back from war, and wow there’s another burning twist in his stomach. Niall and Liam easily enter the conversation which leaves Louis and Aiden out of the loop for a moment. That’s ok, Louis needs time to breathe.

Aiden finishes his drink and sets it down on the table they’ve parked themselves by and leans down to plant a kiss on Louis cheek before heading to the bathroom. And then there was one. Louis stands awkwardly to the side before Niall looks over at him and waves him into the conversation.

“Louis, I didn’t know you used to know Harry. Crazy, innit?” Niall asks, loud and bright and Louis wishes he could steal some of Niall’s sunshine for himself.

“Um, yeah. It’s a long story,” Louis says and glances at Harry who is resolutely looking down at his drink. It’s electric blue and looks absolutely ridiculous and delicious and Louis really wants to try it.

Zayn clears his throat to gain Niall’s attention and tells him, “They’ve decided to keep that bit of information away from Aiden, so if you could just not say anything…”

Liam furrows his eyebrows at that, as he wasn’t in on that bit of information either, and Niall just shrugs good naturedly and takes another sip of his drink. Harry is still staring at his shoes and refusing to meet Louis’ eye.

The conversation flows and it’s easy, as if they’ve all been a group for years instead of just formally fitting together for the first time tonight. Niall cracks jokes and makes everyone laugh and Louis listens to Harry’s loud squawking laughter for the first time in years and tries to commit it to memory. It’s a stupid practice, but Louis does it anyway. When Aiden comes back, conversation still flows, but not as easily, as if there’s a barrier now or something that’s keeping everyone slightly more on edge. Maybe it’s the fact that they’re all trying to keep the secret of Harry and Louis previously knowing each other, but it seems deeper than that. Like Aiden is intruding on their group, which seems ridiculous seeing as their group was formed maybe half an hour ago.

While Aiden chats with Liam about God knows what, Harry excuses himself to get another drink. Louis watches him glance over at Louis’ empty beer bottle before turning towards the bar. When he comes back, he’s holding two neon green drinks in his hand and passes one to Louis, who raises an eyebrow but offers a small smile in thanks. Harry must have seen Louis eyeing his drink earlier. Louis does not feel a slight tinge of happiness thinking that maybe he remembered that time that Louis got wasted when he was 19 on fruity cocktails and Harry had to drag him home. There’s a burn of vodka in the back of his throat as Louis takes a large gulp and Harry matches him with a sip of his own.

Aiden turns back to Louis and eyes his drink but chooses not to say anything and nudges Louis’ side instead. “Let’s go dance, babe.”

Louis looks down at his almost full glass of lime green goodness and sighs. He does really want to dance, but he also doesn’t want to abandon his drink. Drugs passed through liquids in clubs. Bad idea. He takes a deep breath and downs the rest of the glass, sputtering at the end. Zayn’s staring at him wide eyed and when he looks towards Harry, Harry’s staring right back, but his eyes seem to be more focused on Louis throat than anything. Interesting.

Louis shakes his head and turns to Aiden with a bright smile. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Aiden pulls him out to the dance floor and into the middle of the masses. Louis turns so his back is pressed tightly against Aiden’s chest and their hips are aligned. There are bodies dropping and swaying all around him and it’s easy to catch the beat of the music. They become a tangle of limbs and movements and Aiden drops his forehead to rest on Louis’ shoulder. It’s grinding, mindless movements that don’t require much concentration. Drinking that cocktail so fast was not such a good idea, seeing as Louis had had shots at Zayn’s before they decided to go clubbing so there’s a lot of liquid in his stomach and the vodka from his last drink is starting to run through his veins.

During a break in good grinding songs, Niall brings over more drinks which is a terrible idea but Louis really just wants to succumb to the mind numbing that liquor brings, so he takes the shots that Niall has in his hands. The liquid burns on the way down and he ends up doing two in quick succession with Aiden and Niall doing the same. Louis vision starts to turn a little blurry and his head feels heavy so he lets it drop and feels Aiden press his lips and teeth against his neck to suck a bruise into his skin as they sway to the music.

It’s nice being drunk. There are no rules, no responsibilities. Louis just has to keep his body pressed against Aiden and let Aiden keep a hold of him so he doesn’t fall. They’re dancing dirty and Louis knows what it must look like to other people, like Aiden’s going to get laid in the near future, but Louis really doesn’t feel like sex. He just wants to marvel in his numb mind and let his eyes slip closed.

He glances up a while later and wishes he hadn’t. Harry’s dancing with some bloke that Louis had noticed eyeing him earlier. Harry’s got his head thrown back, laughing at something the guy is saying as the guy grinds back into Harry’s hips. He’s having fun, curls slowly making an escape from his head scarf as the heat and humidity of the room make his hair become even more of a mess than normal, and smiling wide for everyone to see. It’s a lovely picture, Harry’s eyes sparkling and obscene red lips stretched in a smile. The only problem is that there’s a guy basically dry humping Harry in public. It shouldn’t be a problem and Louis shouldn’t be a hypocrite because he’s doing the same, if not worse, with Aiden, but still. It’s Harry. It’s always Harry.

Harry’s eyes wander over the crowd and lock with Louis’ right as  _Wicked Games_  starts to play over the speakers. It’s a slower type of song but Aiden switches the tempo of their hips and Louis throws himself into it, all while still keeping his eyes glued on Harry. Harry’s staring right back, always watching. It makes his skin feel warm and his heart race.

 _I left my girl back home_  
I don’t love her no more  
And she’ll never fucking know that  
These fucking eyes that I’m staring at

Harry licks his lips and glances down as the guy he’s dancing with says something, leaning back and arching his back so he can whisper into Harry’s ear. Harry smiles again, but it’s full of filth and Louis thinks he might want to throw up. He tells himself it’s from the alcohol and not from the way the guy has turned to face Harry and is roughly pulling Harry into him so that they’re front to front.

Harry places his hands on the guy’s hips and smirks down at him like he’s eyeing his prey, and then snaps his eyes up to Louis’. The dark look is still there, like Harry’s ready to pounce and now Louis is the one he’s set his sights on. He’s not sure how to deal with that.

 _Bring your love baby,_  
 _I can bring my shame._  
Bring the drugs baby,  
I can bring my pain.  
I got my heart right here,  
I got my scars right here.

Aiden leans down to kiss along Louis shoulder and neck and Harry’s eyes follow the trail his lips make. He licks his lips again and Louis is about to lose it.

“Ready to go home, babe?” Aiden asks into his ear. He suggestively pushes his groin forward and Louis takes a step forward and turns around.

Yes. “No, I think I’m going to stay a bit. Hang out with Li and Zayn.”

He watches Aiden sigh and Louis knows he was probably expecting to get Louis to go home with him like he normally does on nights out, but Louis is too on edge. He nods and leans down to kiss Louis, licking into his mouth and grabbing his bum for good measure before heading towards the door.

Louis turns to try to find Zayn and Liam in the crowd. He spots Niall over by the bar chatting up a lovely looking brunette girl who’s all legs and flowing brown hair. By the way she’s staring at Niall and giggling into her straw, Niall’s got her completely charmed. Good for him. Louis finds Zayn and Liam wrapped up in each other on the dance floor to his right. They’re dancing, chest to chest, Liam’s hands in Zayn’s hair and Zayn’s hands up Liam’s shirt, foreheads pushed together. It’s a mixture of completely hot and utterly adorable and Louis will never admit how much he loves seeing them so happy together. It appears that they won’t be leaving any time soon, so he heads to the bar.

He orders another shot. Terrible idea. It’s tequila. Even worse idea. He feels like he might puke but after a moment the nausea passes as it always does after a shot of tequila, and he leans against the bar. He spots Harry still dancing with that guy and he seems to actually be paying attention to him this time instead of watching Louis. Which is fine. Definitely fine.

Louis pushes off the bar and heads to the bathroom to get away from all the loud music. He’s not sure why he told Aiden he was going to stay if there was no one for him to dance with and talk to, but he didn’t necessarily want the night to end either. He splashes some water on his face to try to gain some semblance of sobriety and sighs when it doesn’t work. He has to squint into the mirror to even look at his reflection properly. He is so fucked for tomorrow. The hangover is going to be awful. Maybe Liam will be nice and make him a fry up.

The door opens behind him and Louis turns to see who it is. Of course it has to fucking be Harry Styles. Of course. The universe laughs at his pain.

Harry looks at him and opens his mouth as if to say something, then shuts it, then decides he really does need to pee. Louis stands at the sink, unable to make himself leave the bathroom, and waits for Harry to walk over to the sink before actually moving out the way.

Harry clears his throat a couple times before he says, “Have fun tonight?”

Louis nods and can’t bring himself to look at Harry. Looking at Harry is dangerous.

Harry just stands there. Louis can see his feet pointed towards him as he stares intently at the ground, and waits for Louis to say something. He doesn’t.

“So you’re not going to even look at me now?” Harry asks, his voice breaking at the last part.

Louis can’t help himself. His eyes shoot up to take in his face. It’s a knee-jerk reaction whenever Harry sounds like he’s in distress.

“I can’t,” Louis whispers into the space between them.

The lights are bright and cast a harsh light on Harry’s frame. He’s tall and lanky, but so unintimidating. It’s probably the way he carries himself, always with the hunched shoulders as if he’s trying to make himself smaller.

Harry huffs out a breath. “Well it’s going to be kind of hard for me to plan your damn wedding if you can’t even look me in the eye when we’re having a conversation.”

Louis winces and tries to look Harry straight on but he can’t. He just can’t.

“I can’t,” Louis repeats. There’s a long silence between them and the air fills with a thick tension that Louis thinks he could actually poke if he tried hard enough. “Hurts too much.”

Louis instantly kicks himself for showing weakness to this boy. Man. Boy-man. Man-child. Person. Harry Styles shouldn’t get to make Louis feel so vulnerable, so out of his skin, not now. Not after all these years.

Harry barks out a laugh, loud, unforgiving. “That’s rich. You don’t get to feel sorry for yourself here. I’m the one that got abandoned. I’m the one that got told empty promises.”

It comes out almost like a growl, like Harry had been holding it in for so long that the words clawed their way out of his throat unforgivingly when he least expected it. Louis looks back at the ground and then takes a deep breath and looks back up.

“I know.” He hates his voice for being meek. His vision is still blurry and the bathroom is swaying slightly around him. This is not the time to be having this conversation. “I know, and I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t fix anything,” Harry bites back. Louis watches as Harry pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath, counts to five, and then exhales. “But we need to be civil with each other so we can get this damned thing over with.”

Louis nods and fiddles with the edge of his shirt. It’s quiet again for a long time, both of them just staring at each other. Harry is the first to walk out of the bathroom and Louis watches the door swing shut behind him. He splashes more water onto his face and tells his heart to stop beating so fast. It’s making him feel even sicker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> If you want to get in the mood for this chapter, the songs I listened to were:
> 
> Haunt by Bastille  
> Wicked Games by The Weekend
> 
> Thank you to my wonderful Betas!
> 
> [Check out the playlist for this story!](http://8tracks.com)
> 
> [Come say hi on Tumblr!](http://donnyscheshire.tumblr.com)


	3. Waves Crashing Over Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Louis and Harry have a complicated past, Louis is getting married to someone that’s not Harry, and the universe has decided to have a laugh and make Harry the wedding planner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys!
> 
> I'm so so so so so sorry this is so late. I was at the beach last week and didn't get much time to write because I was trying to hang out with my family.
> 
> This chapter is extra long just to make up for it :)
> 
> There are a couple warnings that go along with this chapter, just so you're prepared.
> 
> THERE IS GOING TO BE SMUT! (yayyyyy!) Also, the sex is in a flashback, so Harry is only 16 at the time, and if you're uncomfortable with Harry being so young and having sex, you can just skip the italicized part. Or maybe just stop reading the italicized part when it says "GO BOOBEAR" cuz after that the sex happens. The sex stops when the words stop being italicized.
> 
> I'm also kinda in love with Subspace Harry, so it's kind of hinted at, but I don't go into much description or anything. Maybe later I will.
> 
> It's my first time writing smut, but I'm also not shy about descriptions or details so if detailed smut makes you uncomfortable, just skim or whatever.
> 
> ENJOY!

_Babe, there’s something tragic about you,_  
 _Something so magic about you,_  
 _Don’t you agree?_  
 _Babe, there’s something lonesome about you,_  
 _Something so wholesome about you,_  
 _Get closer to me.  
_ _-Hozier_

* * *

Light streams in from the cracked blinds and into his eyes, pulling him out of a restless sleep. Harry groans softly and stretches his muscles slowly before opening his eyes. He feels achy deep in his bones, but it’s a good ache, and he remembers why his muscles are protesting when he rolls over and collides with a soft wall of skin. For a moment, he lets himself think he’s 17 and is going to wake up to stormy blue eyes and soft morning kisses with a _“Good morning, love”_ breathed into the crook of his neck. He shatters the illusion when he finally opens his eyes to see dark brown hair and a long lanky body that is nowhere near the compact and curvy stature he was hoping for. He lets out a long sigh and stretches again, ignoring his thighs’ protests as he swings his legs off the mattress to stand up.

There’s a boy in his bed and he can’t even remember his name. There’s a pounding in his head and he thinks he remembers tequila at some point. There is also a loud Irishman singing at the top of his lungs and banging pots together on the other side of Harry’s door. How the guy in his bed hasn’t been startled awake, Harry has yet to figure out. He doesn’t dwell on it.

He searches around the room for a pair of joggers to throw on. Normally, he’d be ok going starkers, but he’d rather not give the stranger an eyeful when he undoubtedly wakes up. Not that he didn’t already get an eyeful when he was fucking Harry into the mattress, but, that’s something easily forgettable.

When Harry makes his way into the kitchen area of his flat, he sees Niall cracking an egg on the frying pan before starting to scramble it. He stands in the doorway for a moment, not sure whether the smell of eggs is inviting, or if it’s going to make him puke all over the tiled linoleum of the kitchen floor.  The obnoxious Irish folk song stops when Niall turns around to see Harry standing in the doorway. He lets out a low whistle and eyes Harry’s chest before nodding to the table and telling him to sit down.

Harry glances down at his chest to see it’s littered with lovebites and groans. At least What’s His Name didn’t do anything above the collar, so he doesn’t have to worry about his clients looking at him funny and knowing he’s recently gotten laid. Plopping down on the seat, he grabs the newspaper sitting on the tabletop and flips through it while Niall continues to scramble his eggs.

“Here ya go, mate,” Niall says, placing a plate in front of Harry and then sitting down with a plate of his own.

“I love you, Nialler,” Harry says, beaming at him before shoveling eggs into his mouth. “You’re the best.”

“I know,” Niall says, stuffing his own face.

The door to Harry’s bedroom opens and the guy from last night walks into the kitchen. He sees the two of them sitting down at the table and eyes Harry’s eggs. Harry can’t for the life of him remember what the bloke’s name is and he feels bad about it. It’s not like he’s been trying his hardest to sift through his muggy memories of the previous night and he doesn’t care enough to subtly ask again.

“So uh…” He’s got a nice voice, Harry thinks. Kind of scratchy and deep, like his own. “Who’s Louis?”

Harry chokes on his spoonful of eggs and Niall reaches around to slap him on the back.

“What the fuck?” Niall asks, soothing a hand over Harry’s shoulder blades and staring at the guy standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“You know, that guy’s name you screamed last night instead of, you know, mine.”

Harry just stares and feels like he can’t breathe. He hears Niall’s chair scraping the floor and manages to look up at his flat mate’s stormy expression.

“You can fuck right off with those questions. Door’s right over there, _mate_ ,” Niall says, his usual sunshine demeanor vanished.

The guy rolls his eyes, obviously a dick, and walks out the door. Niall sits back down and shovels more eggs into his mouth like that didn’t just happen, like Harry isn’t having a meltdown. Niall looks up from his eggs and sighs.

“You ok, Harry?” Niall asks around his eggs.

Harry nods, but doesn’t feel like eating anymore. He just stares down at his plate and feels bad that he’s letting the last few bites of fluffy eggs go cold.

“Look,” Niall says, putting down his fork. Harry knows Niall’s about to be serious since the cutlery is no longer in his hands so he wills his eyes to meet Niall’s. “You need to calm down. So what if you said the wrong name? You obviously haven’t gotten over it, even if it’s been six fucking years. It’s fine.”

Harry just stares. He’s not sure how to respond. He’d told Niall all about Louis, little bits and pieces over the years, but now Niall has a face to put with the stories. It took Niall maybe thirty minutes after finding out Harry and Louis used to know each other when they were at the club a few weeks ago to realize this was _the Louis_. He’d offered to take the wedding off of Harry’s hands, but Harry had claimed he needed closure and this was how he planned on getting it. He knew Niall thought it was the stupidest idea he’d ever had. Harry isn’t so sure he was wrong.

“I think it’s fate or whatever, the two of you seeing each other after all this time. Just don’t get too caught up in all of it. He’s engaged to someone else, bro.”

Harry nods and picks up his plate to take it to the sink. He watches as the water rushes past the eggs still on his plate, pushing bits of yellow off the ceramic and into the silver washing basin and down the drain. He’s still trying to remember when he might have said Louis’ name last night, the edges of his memories fuzzy and hard to piece together. It’s all pretty blurry, if he’s honest, but the fact that he can’t recall even saying the name terrifies him to no end. There’s a gut wrenching feeling in the pit of his stomach and he has to force down the thought that this has probably happened before.

“I think I’m going to pop in at the coffee shop down the road. Clear my head a bit. Got some clients later on today and I need to get some stuff together,” he says, turning back to Niall. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

Niall nods and smiles wide at him, no trace of pity on his face and the rude one night stand completely forgotten. “See ya, man.”

Harry walks back into his room and pulls on a pair of black jeans and a jumper. The weather hasn’t quite warmed up enough for t-shirts, but it’s getting there. There’s something comforting about being wrapped up in soft cloth. It makes the ache in his chest a little lighter and the embarrassment he feels at thinking about his ex from six years ago in bed seem not as terrible. Harry bites his lip and grabs his key and phone from the nightstand. Today is going to be a good day. He’s going to stay positive. Even if it was a shit start, it’s going to get better.

He leaves the flat, throwing a “Bye Niall, see you later!” over his shoulder.

The late morning air is cool against his face, a slight breeze tousling his hair and blowing it into his eyes. Harry reaches up to try and push his hair back into place, only to have it flop back down again. He regrets not bringing a hair tie or headscarf with him. It’s a short walk to the coffee shop and other than the chilled wind, it’s a nice day out. It’s actually mostly sunny, a rarity for England, and he can feel the sun’s rays kiss his skin as he lifts his face to the sky.

As he’s walking he passes a public football pitch, empty save for a lone ball resting near the net closest to the street. Harry suddenly gets the urge to walk through the gate and have a kick about, but he hasn’t done that in years. Not since…well not since Louis was the star footie player at school. Not since Louis left. They used to spend hours on the pitch. He used to pretend to be goalie while Louis practiced on his footwork and aim. It kind of became their thing.

* * *

 

_“C’mon Harry, keep up!” Louis calls over his shoulder as he kicks the ball ahead of himself._

_Harry trails behind him, huffing out a breath and trying not to slip on the wet grass. It’s almost midnight and they’re running around on the school’s field, probably breaking the law._

_“Shhh, someone’ll hear you!” Harry stage whispers, pushing himself to be able to catch up to Louis._

_He sticks out a leg to try and steal the ball, but Louis just swerves around his outstretched leg and laughs at Harry’s pout. They’ve been at this for over an hour now, Harry chasing Louis around the pitch while Louis laughs and evades Harry’s blocking attempts. Louis is the star here, not Harry, but somehow Harry always seems to get roped into helping him practice. Illegally. In the dark. At school. It’s all a bit ridiculous._

_“Lou!” he calls, stopping to plop down on ground and suck air into his lungs. “It’s late. Can we stop yet?”_

_Louis sighs and bends down to pick up the ball before coming to sit down next to Harry._

_“Aw, Hazza, are you tired?” he mocks softly, running a hand through Harry’s curls._

_Harry just nods and nuzzles into the feeling of Louis gently pulling on his hair and scratching his scalp. They sit together for a few minutes, Louis’ fingers like balls of fire against his skin, making Harry warm and fuzzy inside. He lets out a yawn and Louis drops his hand, if only to bring his arm around Harry to pull him in closer. Louis places a kiss on Harry’s forehead and then pulls away and stands up._

_“C’mon. I want to practice a couple more shots and then we can go. Go be goalie, babe.”_

_Harry sighs, long and suffering, but gets up anyway. He gets smacked on the bum for his whining, but he doesn’t mind that much, even sashays over to the goal post in an elaborate show that has Louis cackling behind him. Harry basically just stands in the middle of the goal and half-heartedly reaches out for the ball whenever it comes towards him. He’s a sucky goalie and they both know it. It’s really just so Louis can practice his aim and trajectory. He’d missed a goal in the match against their rivals last week and needed to reassure himself that he could, in fact, make the ball go through the two posts and hit the net. Louis runs up to the ball, kicks it with too much force, and it sails over the goal, barely scraping the top bar. He groans and sinks to his knees, head in his hands._

_“Why do I suck at this?” he says into his palms._

_Harry walks over to Louis and bends down, pulling Louis hands away from his face._

_“You don’t suck at this, Boo. You’re just tense and trying too hard. I’ve seen you do it a million and one times.” Louis just rolls his eyes and tries to pull his hands away. Harry doesn’t let go. He smirks down at Louis sitting there on his knees. “Tell you what. You make this goal, and I’ll blow you. Right here.”_

_Harry watches as multiple emotions flash across Louis’ face: surprise, bewilderment, and then a fiery determination._

_“Get your ass in the goal,” Louis says, standing up. “You’re such an exhibitionist.”_

_Harry giggles but doesn’t deny it as he walks back to the goalie box. Louis has his jaw set, eyes scanning the length of the net as he paces backwards. There’s a new determination in his steps and Harry wants to laugh at how the promise of a blowjob can apparently work wonders. He doesn’t, only because he doesn’t want to break Louis’ concentration. Louis starts running forward, connects with the ball, and it soars right into the left corner of the goal._

_Louis lets out some kind of war cry before immediately stopping and looking around. They’ve been coming out here for months and no one has ever been around, but loud noises are probably not something he should be allowing himself. Harry opens his arms and Louis runs right into them, jumping at the last moment and wrapping his legs around Harry’s waist as he is hoisted into the air._

_Their lips meet in a sloppy kiss, both smiling too much to get things right. Louis bites down on Harry’s bottom lip and sucks it into his mouth, pulling a sigh from the back of Harry’s throat._

_“I told you. I knew you could do it,” Harry mumbles against Louis lips._

_“My favorite cheerleader,” Louis says, peppering Harry’s cheeks with small little pecks that make Harry squirm with giddiness._

_“Can I bring my_ GO BOOBEAR _sign to the next game?”_

_“Absolutely not,” Louis says, huffing out a breath and letting his legs drop from Harry’s waist. Harry sets him down gently, their bodies sliding together as Louis finds his footing. “So…you promised a prize if I got it in?”_

_“Oh, you’ll get it in alright.”_

_“Oh my God! Harold.” Louis tries to look unimpressed but the ends of his lips twitch up and Harry knows he’s fighting back a smile. “You are horrible.”_

_“Yeah, yeah,” he says while pushing Louis around and against a goal post._

_Harry drops to his knees, feels the dampness from the grass soak into the knees of his joggers. With deft fingers, he pulls down Louis’ shorts and pants down with one hard tug so they are hanging mid-thigh and out of the way. Louis lets out a loud puff of air and starts to scratch lightly at the top of Harry’s head._

_Louis is already half hard in front of Harry’s face, but he decides to ignore it and leaves soft kisses on the inside of Louis’ thigh. Louis lets out a high pitched whine when Harry pulls a small bit of sensitive skin into his mouth and sucks a bruise, biting hard and swirling his tongue. The scratching on his scalp stills as Harry darts his tongue out to lap at the sore spot he’s just created and then licks his way up Louis’ thigh, completely disregarding Louis’ hardening cock by his cheek. He kisses up Louis hip bone and across the soft pudge of Louis’ tummy, stopping to suck bruises into both v-lines of his hip bones._

_“Haz.” Louis voice comes out higher than normal, whiny and insistent as he pushes his hips up towards Harry’s face slightly. “Baby, please don’t tease.”_

_Harry leans back to smirk at Louis as he locks eyes with him. Keeping their eyes locked, Harry leans forward and presses a closed mouth kiss to the tip of Louis’ cock and pulls away when a bead of pre-come lands on his lip. Louis makes a grunting noise low in his throat and the scratching through Harry’s curls picks up again. Harry licks a long stripe from base to tip and swirls his tongue around the head, making sure to spend time lapping at the slit where he knows Louis is most sensitive. When he finally sucks the head into his mouth, he brings his hands up to Louis’ hips to make sure he doesn’t thrust forward and feels Louis’ muscles tighten. He moves one hand to the middle of Louis stomach and the other to the base of Louis’ cock and starts to slowly swallow Louis down._

_When they first started dating, Harry had never given a blow job. He was still a virgin and had only ever kissed one other boy. Louis was his first for everything else. They’d waited two months before going below the belt and that had only been hand jobs for a few weeks before Harry had worked up the courage to push for more. He’d had no idea what he was doing, choking and gagging as he tried to go down on Louis too fast and sputtering and gasping for breath when he pulled off. What he lacked in technique, he made up for in enthusiasm though. He found he loved the feeling of the weight of Louis’ dick sliding along his tongue, pushing against the back of his throat. He adored the noises that he was able to pull from Louis and how he could feel Louis shake as he came down his throat._

_Sex had come later, after they’d said their I love you’s and Louis miraculously had the house to himself one weekend where their nerves had time to play out. It was a lot of stop and go, awkward conversation, and the daunting attempt at making everything perfect and romantic, only to fail miserably. Louis tried to cook but ended up burning dinner and Harry was a giggling, fidgeting mess the whole time. They couldn’t figure out how to act around each other before heading to the bedroom. Louis had had a steady girlfriend before Harry stole his attention and had had sex with her, so he wasn’t completely new to the experience, but they were both fumbling, blushing idiots when it came to actually doing the deed. Louis used almost half a bottle of lube and it took almost an hour of Harry squirming in the sheets, close to tears with anticipation, as Louis opened him up at an achingly slow pace before sliding in. It was awkward, and they couldn’t get a rhythm that matched, and they knocked into each other too many times to count, but it was still amazing. It was amazing because Harry’s heart was trying to beat out of his chest with the amount of fondness he felt for the boy pressing kisses to his chest and when Louis tilted his hips just right, his whole body thrummed with energy. They had come relatively at the same time, thank God, Louis only a few strokes behind Harry, mumbling “Harry, Hazza, Baby” into his neck as he shook. They’d lain together, wrapped up in soiled sheets as cum dried on their stomachs, too busy kissing and indulging in the afterglow._

_Now, in the cool breeze that makes Harry’s hair ruffle, Harry hollows his cheeks and swallows around the head of Louis cock as it brushes against the back of his throat. He moves his hand and lips at different rhythms so Louis can’t get used to one sensation for long. Harry knows it drives him mad, and by the way his fingers are tightening in Harry’s hair, he is slowly starting to lose it. Harry pulls off and takes a deep breath before clamping both hands down on Louis hips and diving back in. He doesn’t stop when he feels Louis’ cock hit the back of his throat, keeps pushing and swallowing until he is able to brush his nose against the dusting of hair Louis has leading from his navel to his dick. Louis groans loudly, tightening his hands in Harry’s hair and pulling just like Harry likes. Harry moans around his dick and Louis swears quietly as the vibrations flow through his body._

_“So good. So good, Harry,” he murmurs in between moans._

_Pulling back and starting to bob again, this time coming almost all the way down each time, Harry begins to slide his fingers all over Louis body. He runs his fingers over Louis nipples, feeling them harden under his touch, and Louis squirms a little and whimpers at the sensation. Then, he slides his fingers around to squeeze at Louis’ bum, kneading into the flesh there and pulling Louis’ groin further towards his face. He can feel Louis’ legs shaking and hear his breaths coming quicker._

_“Harry,” Louis breathes out with a moan._

_He sounds so desperate, so needy, and Harry knows just what he’s asking for without him having to say it. He slides a hand around the back of Louis’ thigh and slowly starts to circle his finger around Louis rim. Louis moans, long and loud at that and Harry squeezes his hip to remind him to be quiet. The tugging on Harry’s hair gets harder, more desperate and painful which is starting to short-circuit Harry’s brain. Harry’s always had a thing for pain, and being able to pull lovely noises out of Louis while swallowing around his dick always makes Harry light headed with arousal. Louis is letting out delicious little whimpers each time Harry flutters his tongue along the vein of Louis cock, sucking as hard as he can. He just needs a little push and he’ll be gone. Harry presses his finger against Louis’ hole and allows for a dull dry burn as the tip nudges passed the rim and looks up to lock Louis in a heated stare._

_Harry swirls his tongue on the sensitive underside of the head and pushes in a little more with his finger, and Louis is gone. He throws his head back, muscles clenching and shaking, teeth biting his lip so he’ll make sure not to moan too loudly, and floods Harry’s mouth with come. Harry swallows and keeps sucking until the last drop is gone before licking around the head some more as Louis shakes beneath him until Louis puts his hand on Harry’s forehead and pushes him away._

_Louis slumps against the pole, breathing hard with his hair matted to his forehead. He reaches down for his pants and Harry helps him pull everything back up to its proper place before Louis slides down the pole and sits down on the grass in front of him. Harry leans forward and kisses Louis, causing him to moan into his mouth, probably from still being able to taste himself in the kiss._

_Louis reaches down and pulls Harry’s joggers down with smirk when he sees Harry isn’t wearing any pants. After licking his hand, Louis wraps his fist around Harry and leans in for another kiss. It’s filthy. Louis licks into Harry’s mouth and sucks on his tongue, biting down softly, while he slides his thumb over Harry’s slit to gather pre-come and slide it down his shaft._

_“Gorgeous boy,” Louis murmurs into his ear as he places hot kisses down his neck. “My gorgeous boy.”_

_Harry whines at the words and shivers as Louis flicks his wrist on the upstroke, just the way he likes it. The pace is fast and brutal and deliciously rough. Harry can’t stop the groans leaving his lips and Louis leans forward to swallow them down with his lips. Harry loves Louis lips, especially when they are puffy and raw from kissing so much._

_“You look so good like this, Baby,” Louis whispers, just for Harry to hear. “All flushed and glassy eyed.”_

_Harry lets out a low whine and drops his head onto Louis’ shoulder. “I love you so much. You going to come for me, Haz?”_

_Harry nods frantically, pushing his hips up into Louis’ fist to urge the pace faster. He lifts up his head so he can look Louis in the eye until the last second when the heat pooling in his stomach washes over him like a tidal wave and pulls him under. He shuts his eyes and feels his body vibrate with the aftershocks of the orgasm and Louis pets his hair and kisses his shoulder._

_He always feels light and floaty after he comes. It’s not so bad now, since it was only a rough hand job in the middle of a football field, but when Louis has him stretched out on the bed and makes everything last and pushes him to the edge over and over, he gets lost in his head for a while. Now, it’s just a few moments of blissful haziness where everything gets soft at the edges and Louis is the only thing he can see. He loves Louis so much, it physically consumes him sometimes. He’s been trying to figure out why he gets this way, the feeling that he’s going to float off if he doesn’t become grounded by something, and he thinks it might be because he loves Louis so much that every cell of his being wants to be tied to Louis, his anchor._

_“Hazza,” Louis coos, running his fingers up and down his back. “Baby, you here?”_

_Harry’s head feels like it weighs a ton, but he nods his answer even if it isn’t completely true._

_“We need to get going. It’s nearly two and we have school in the morning.”_

_Harry nods again and grunts his agreement. He watches as Louis stands up and brushes the grass off of his legs before holding out a hand for Harry to take._

_“Come on, Babycakes. Bedtime for me.”_

_He pulls Harry up and carries most of Harry’s body weight as they trudge through the field. In the morning they’ll realize that they’ve forgotten their football and Louis will have to sneak away from class a few minutes early to get it before practice starts. Right now, all that matters is the steady warmth and strength Louis provides beside him. They sneak into Louis’ room without waking his sisters or his mother, and Louis grabs some crisps from his dresser for him and Harry to munch on before climbing into bed. Harry falls asleep with Louis raking his fingers slowly through Harry’s hair and pressing soft kisses to his naked chest._

* * *

 

Harry has to physically shake himself out of his memories and turn away from the field. He spots the coffee shop up ahead and practically runs across the street. The faster he can get away from his memories, the better.

He is immediately assaulted with warm air and the smell of freshly brewed coffee as he steps inside. There are couches and big cushioned chairs scattered around tables throughout the shop and the low melody of an eclectic band he has probably got listed on his iPod playing through the speakers. There’s a short line and Harry glances over at the pastry section, stomach grumbling over the uneaten eggs from this morning. He spies a banana nut bread muffin in the middle of the display case and silently hopes it’s still there when he gets to the front.

He looks around at the patrons as he waits. People-watching is always a fun activity and helps the time pass. There’s a guy talking on his cellphone with a laptop in front of him, brows furrowed as he scans the screen in front of him. A woman behind him is taking a large bite of a biscuit, generic cup of coffee in her hand as she stares out the window. There are two teenagers, a girl dressed in a black shirt and jeans, hair pulled back in a messy bun with thick eyeliner and red lips giggling and holding hands with a boy who’s got on an outfit almost identical to hers and hair so shaggy it falls into his face every few seconds. They seem like a cute couple, Harry thinks, as he takes a step forward. He glances to the other side and sees a girl furiously writing something down in her notebook, a textbook open on her lap, which makes Harry sigh in sympathy for her because he remembers the struggles of studying all night and into the morning for a test.

His eyes follow the natural seating arrangements of people throughout the shop until they rest on a man sitting in the far corner, staring out the window in a daze. He’s got what appears to be an empty cup of tea sitting on the table with his small, skinny fingers drumming against the tabletop in an absent beat. His hair is long and feathery, falling into his face before he flicks it to the side with a shake of his head, and blue eyes that almost look clear as the sun hits them. Harry would know him anywhere. It’s Louis.

The memory from the football pitch still weighs heavy on his mind and his fingers itch to touch Louis’ skin like he once did, but he swallows down the urge and turns away. It’s his turn to order and without thinking he says, “A caramel latte and a cup of Yorkshire. Also, I’d like that banana-nut muffin over there and…” he glances at Louis, “a chocolate chip one as well, thanks.”

He hands over the appropriate amount of money and takes the tray over to the fixings table to add a dash of milk to the tea. It takes a moment of long deep breaths and mentally psyching himself up before he’s able to make his feet move. Louis glances up as he’s about to set the tray down on the table, and Harry registers a look of total shock on his face. It’s followed quickly by a flash of pain before Louis can smooth his expression into a look of confusion.

“What are you … what are you doing?” Louis asks, voice soft and eyes clouded over with something dark.

Harry just shrugs and plops down in the chair on the other side of the table before sorting out their food and drinks. “Came for a coffee and saw you over here. Thought I’d say hi.”

It’s a flimsy explanation at best. He’s actually not sure why he came over here or ordered for Louis without even really thinking about it. Louis obviously isn’t buying it if the way he cocks his eyebrow is anything to go by.

“Harry,” he says. Harry watches him take a deep breath after he mutters the name, as if it took all of his willpower to form the five letter word. He can relate.

Harry sighs. “Look, I know I was kind of a dick at the club. Not saying you didn’t deserve it, because you do-”

“I most certainly do,” Louis cuts in.

“Yeah, well,” he says, waving a hand. “I’ve been hurt and angry for too long now. You know me. I don’t want to be angry. I’m more of the happy-go-lucky type anyway. I just thought, since, you know, I’m planning your…..” He trails off, his throat tight and restricting him from saying the word. “Well since we’ll be seeing each other a lot, I thought we’d best just sort through our differences and move on with it.”

“But Harry –”

Harry reaches for Louis muffin and shoves it into Louis’ mouth to cut off his words. Shaking his head, he says, “Look we have a lot we need to say to each other and I’ve had so many questions for so long, but I don’t want to talk about it right now. I just want to catch up with the guy who used to be my best mate.” He doesn’t add the _and the love of my life_ part, but somehow he thinks they can both hear it in the silence that follows.

Louis pulls the muffin out of his mouth, biting off a piece and chewing slowly. He watches Harry for a long while as he picks apart the muffin and pops a lone chocolate chip into his mouth. When he swallows he says, “And you thought bringing me tea and a muffin would solve everything?”

“No, but it’s a start, innit?” Harry asks, pushing his lip into a pout.

Well, it appears that Louis is still just as much of a sucker for his puppy dog eyes as he used to be. Good to know.

“Fine,” Louis says with a sigh that ends with his lips curling up slightly into a small smile. He looks down at his phone and frowns. “Um…Aiden’s supposed to be meeting me here.”

Harry nods, eyes staring into his caramel latte. “Should I go then?”

Louis starts to drum his fingers on the table again and Harry has to fight back the urge to grab his fingers to stop the nervous habit. What’s he got to be nervous about anyway?

“Nah, it’s ok. He’s probably going to be late. Or later than he already is,” Louis says with a shrug.

Harry bites into his muffin, still warm from the heating lamps in the display case and groans in appreciation. It’s like a little piece of heaven inside his mouth. He looks up to see Louis staring at him, mouth slightly parted and fingers stilled.

He blushes and puts his muffin down before clearing his throat. “So, um, how’s Jay and the kids?”

Louis visibly shakes himself out of his stare and Harry watches his cheeks tint pink before he starts to talk.

“They’re good. Mum’s just got both sets of twins at the house now. Still in the same place in Doncaster. Fizzy and Lottie are in Uni now. Lottie wants to be a hairstylist or something and Fizzy’s still trying to figure things out.”

“And the twins?”

“Good, good. Daisy and Phoebe are constantly fighting over clothes and make-up and Ernest and Doris turned 7 a few months ago. Cutest little kids ever.”

Harry nods, smiling as he remembers rocking them to sleep in the giant wooden chair they had in their nursery when they were first born. They’d been so cute and Louis had been especially excited to have a brother to finally hang out with, even if they were so far apart in age. People don’t call Louis “Peter Pan” for nothing. When Louis left, Harry had stopped by the see the babies a few more times before it just became too hard. Jay had understood and had hugged Harry tightly in the doorway, murmuring how sorry she was into his ear.

“Jay’s good then? Happy? Healthy?”

Louis nods. “Good, yeah. Engaged to a new bloke. Seems pretty cool. I don’t get down there much, but he seems like a good guy. She needs help, you know? Maintaining all the kids and what not.”

Harry hums and sips his drink. A silence stretches between them and it’s not as uncomfortable as Harry thought it would be. Louis drinks his tea and presses buttons on his phone until the screen pops up to show no new messages. Harry watches his eyes darken in annoyance before he sighs. When he looks back up at Harry, his dark look fades but he suddenly looks as if he hasn’t slept in days and the world is crashing down on him. Every fiber in Harry’s body itches to reach out for him. He doesn’t.

“So, Gemma and Anne?” Louis says to break the silence.

“Good, good. Gemma’s gotten engaged to this guy named Ashton. He’s cool, plays drums in a band. They do gigs around here sometimes and sound pretty good.” He shrugs and takes another bite of his muffin. “She’s over the moon for him. Mom’s good too. She and Robin just celebrated their 6th wedding anniversary. He’s good to her and just like a second dad to me, so.”

Louis smiles at that and nods as he takes a sip of his tea. “Still hate me, I presume.”

Harry frowns. “They don’t _hate_ you.”

Louis lets out a snort and picks at his muffin to occupy his hands. “Harry.”

“Ok, fine. So Gemma still hates you. Just a little bit. And my mom and Robin may not be your biggest fans, but I think they get it….or whatever.”

Now the silence is awkward. They each just stare at their hands and it’s like a game to see who will break the silence first. It takes almost three minutes by Harry’s watch for Louis to sigh and break first.

“Do you…understand?” he asks softly. He’s not looking at Harry, but Harry wishes he would so he could read his face.

Harry just shrugs his shoulders. “Maybe I don’t need to.”

Louis looks up at him then and his eyes have a storm behind them, raging like a hurricane. There’s so many emotions swirling. Pain, exhaustion, resentment, irritation, desperation. Harry just wants him to smile again. He’s got such a beautiful smile.

“I think you do,” he hears Louis say in a quiet voice.

“Look, it’s been six years. I don’t need your explanations right now. We were doing so well, just sitting here talking. Let’s not drudge up old shit right now, ok?” Louis nods, shutting his mouth and checking his phone again. Still no call or text. There still isn’t a smile on his face, and that just isn’t allowed. Not today. “Hey, you got plans for today?”

Louis looks down at his phone, contemplatively, and lets out a sigh. “Apparently not.” There’s a bite to the words and Harry feels a sudden desire to rough Aiden up for standing Louis up.

“Let’s go somewhere.”

Louis looks at him like he might be going crazy. Maybe he is. This is a terrible idea and he thinks they both know it. After a moment, he watches as Louis’ eyes soften and become excited and he knows they’ll be hitting the road at any minute.

“And where would you want to go?”

“I know a place,” Harry says, picking up their half-eaten muffins and mostly-finished drinks and throwing everything in the trash. He’s got a few appointments to get to today, but he figures he can just reschedule for another day.

* * *

 

Thirty minutes later and they are on the open road, wind whipping through their hair through the open windows and the radio blasted. Harry had opted to drive since he knew where he wanted to take them, and Louis had offered his MiniCooper.

Louis starts to laugh and reaches to turn the radio up even louder. “I haven’t heard this in years!”

Harry cuts his eyes over to Louis who’s got his hand out the window and his hair flying all over the place. His eyes are crinkled by a grin and he looks a lot more relaxed than he did earlier. His phone is powered off and sitting in one of the cup holders.

“IF YOU WANNA BE MY LOVER, YOU GOTTA GET WITH MY FRIENDS!” Harry croons out, letting his voice swirl with the wind crashing through the windows.

“MAKE IT LAST FOREVER! FRIENDSHIP NEVER ENDS!!” Louis joins in.

They’re a mess of giggles and wide grins as the song keeps playing. It’s bound to be stuck in his head for the rest of the day. Harry turns off onto his exit and slows the car down as he reaches a stoplight. The song fades into another and Louis gasps and starts to sing along to the next tune. It really is a day for throwbacks.

“I’m a bitch! I’m a lover! I’m a child! I’m a mother! I’m a sinner! I’m a saint! I do not feel ashamed!”

Harry smiles as he listens to Louis singing beside him. It reminds him of all the lazy Saturdays driving around Doncaster just for something to do. They’d listen to the radio and sing their heart outs, feeling invincible with their hands linked and stealing kisses at stop lights. It really was a whirlwind romance for the novels, Harry muses.

After a few more minutes, Harry pulls to a stop in a public parking area and gets out. He can hear the crashing of waves in the distance and the smell of salt permeates the air. Louis jumps out the car, leaving his phone behind, and starts to run out towards the boardwalk.

“You brought me to a beach!” he yells, hands in the air as he runs.

“I did,” Harry says, coming up behind him once Louis stops before the steps leading down into the sand.

Louis turns back to him and smiles, eyes light and happy. “I’m glad.”

The water is freezing when they rush to the shoreline and they both let out a girlish shriek at the temperature. Louis dares them both to see who can go furthest and they strip down to their boxers and wade out into the water. Louis can only make it to his knees before shuddering and biting his lip. Harry can tell that he’s freezing and decides to let Louis win because he knows Louis will push himself until his lips are blue just to say he won. Louis gives him a look like he knows Harry let him win, but doesn’t say anything as they rush back to the shore.

It’s like they’re teenagers again, laughing and running around. Harry hasn’t had this much fun just doing nothing in a long time. They see who can build the largest sandcastle with only their bare hands. Louis comes and jumps on Harry’s masterpiece about five minutes in to insinuate that he’s bored and ready to move on. Harry just pushes him away and he falls into the sand, yelling expletives at Harry for making him sandy. Tough break. They are at the beach after all.

There’s an ice cream stand a little ways down the beach and Louis insists on buying them each a cone. He gets mint chocolate chip, his favorite, and Harry opts for vanilla, even if Louis teases him about being boring. They stroll down the beach, lazily bumping elbows as they lick around their ice cream cones. Harry knows that Louis has to physically bite his tongue to keep from making a dirty joke about the way that his ice cream is dripping down his chin in white streams. Just to make it a little harder on Louis, he licks his ice cream extra slow and makes sure to twist his tongue around in the last second. He thinks he might hear Louis swallow thickly around a bite of his own ice cream.

They lay out, letting the sun warm their skin and watch the clouds roll past. Being around Louis, falling back into their playful routine, is as easy as breathing. Harry’s not sure if that’s a good thing or not, but he’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He rolls over and tosses some sand at Louis so it lands on his stomach. There isn’t much pudge there anymore, all defined muscle and taunt skin. Harry wants to taste the sun kissed skin so badly he almost drools.

“Wanker,” Louis says, smile on his lips and he tosses some sand back. “This is nice.”

Harry hums is agreement and shuts his eyes against the glare of the sun. The sand is warm on his back and he feels as content as he could ever be. He opens his eyes a few minutes later to see Louis watching him. When Louis notices that he’s been caught, he quickly turns away, a blush crawling up his cheeks.

“Staring at my body while I’m resting is creepy, Lou.”

Louis snorts and shakes his head, fiddling with his fingers.

“Whatever, Hazza.”

It’s like a dam breaks at the use of the nicknames. Soft phrases and gentle touches flood Harry’s mind and for once, he lets the overwhelming feeling of hurt wash over him. He keeps his eyes on Louis though, and reminds himself that he’s sitting right there, right in front of his eyes, and that he’s real. He feels like he’s drowning but the waves are so far away, how could that be possible? He hears himself gasp for air and Louis has always known him better than the back of his hand because he seems to realize what Harry needs before Harry can form the words. It’s scary that even after six years apart, Louis can still steady him.

Louis reaches out and presses his thumb right into Harry’s hipbone. Right where he used to leave thumb prints six years ago when he gripped too tight as he filled Harry up or when he was feeling particularly possessive and gripped hard into Harry’s skin. Now, it’s just a steady pressure that won’t necessarily leave a bruise, but it’s Louis sharing physical contact to anchor him. Always his anchor.

“I’m sorry,” he hears Louis whisper over the rushing in his ears.

“Don’t,” Harry manages to say back. “Please.”

Louis nods but keep this thumb pressed into the cut of Harry’s hip. It takes a few minutes, but Harry’s able to catch his breath. Louis still doesn’t remove his finger, even if he can tell Harry doesn’t need him anymore. That’s not true though, is it? Harry’s always going to need Louis.

“So where did all these come from then?” Louis asks, nodding to Harry’s chest. “You got a biter for a boyfriend?”

It takes longer than it should for Harry to register what he’s talking about. He glances down at his bare chest to see all the bite marks that his rude one night stand left.

“Oh um…yeah I don’t actually remember where they came from. Some bloke. Bit rude, that one.”

Harry notices Louis’ eyes flash with something he doesn’t recognize. Well, he does recognize it, but the jealousy he just saw creep into Louis’ features before it was smoothed over can’t have been what he thinks it is. Whatever the look was, it makes Harry’s heart flutter in his chest.

Louis makes a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat. He reaches over and deliberately presses a finger into one of the darker bruises on Harry’s chest. Harry lets out a surprised groan, both from the pain and from the way Louis eyes flash with the same jealous possessiveness they had a moment earlier. It’s not fair for him to do this, but Harry can’t seem to find the words or will to push him away. When they were younger, Louis would push on the bruises he sucked into Harry’s skin and Harry would lose himself in the pleasure pain of it all. It was a form of punishment whenever Harry would, totally platonically, look at another guy at a party or something, as well as a way for Louis to remind Harry who he was going home with. It became _a thing_ that they did, and it appears that Louis still enjoys pushing on people’s bruises. Or maybe just Harry’s. He doesn’t let that line of thinking go too far.

“Lou,” Harry whispers, not sure why he even said it or what he’s asking for.

Louis immediately drops both of his hands and brings them to his own lap. He refuses to look at Harry for a few minutes and Harry just lays there staring at Louis’ profile. He’s not exactly sure what just happened but his skin burns from the physical contact and he wants it back. He doesn’t do anything about it though, because as Niall said earlier, Louis is going to get married in a few months to someone that isn’t him and he needs to focus on not blurring any lines with this shaky form of friendship.

Problem is that Louis seems to have momentarily forgotten the lines as well.

“Sorry,” Louis says again, blushing deep red and fiddling with his shirt.

“S’ok.”

They get up and walk down the beach again until they find a hotdog stand and get something for dinner. The sun starts to set as they finish eating and they sit together, watching the sun sink into the water and cast pinks and purples into the sky. It’s gorgeous, but Harry can’t keep his eyes off of the way Louis’ skin glows in the dying rays of light. He’s the real beauty here.

Louis must know he’s watching because his cheeks turn a delicious pink color up and he ducks his head like he’s trying to hide a smile. When Louis looks over at Harry, he can’t find enough air to bring into his lungs. There’s such a fondness in Louis’ features that Harry’s missed for six whole years, yearned for almost every single day, and it’s right here before him. He feels overwhelmed again, but takes a deep breath and manages to keep his heart rate steady.

They lie out beneath the stars and try to figure out the constellations. They’re shit at it, only being able to actually identify the Big Dipper and Orion’s Belt, but the stars twinkle in the sky and it makes Harry think of fate.

“Do you still believe in fate?” Harry asks him, breaking a long and comfortable silence between them.

“Yeah, I suppose so,” Louis whispers into the cool beach breeze. “Yeah. I do.”

Harry nods even if Louis isn’t looking at him. “Niall thinks it’s fate that we met each other again.”

“Zayn too.”

“What do you think?” Harry asks, hesitantly. The stars above him and the waves kissing the shore have given him more courage than he thought he’d ever have. Stupid courage, but courage nonetheless.

Louis sighs and stays quiet for a while. “I think…I think that I made a huge mistake running away from you, Harry.” Harry turns his head to look at Louis and finds Louis already watching him. He stays quiet because he can tell Louis has more to say. “I regret it so much, Harry. Every day after I…ran… I thought about how much I had hurt you and I’m so sorry. I don’t necessarily believe in a higher power but I believe in fate and I think fate wanted me to have a second chance.” Harry’s heart hammers in his chest and he stares at Louis, wide eyed. Louis is watching him closely, eyes roving over his face. “I don’t want to mess this up again. I like that you decided we should reconnect, because I want that too. We have a lot of catching up to do. I’d really like to be friends with you, Harry.”

Friends. Harry stares at Louis and Louis stares back and there’s a twinkle in his eye that Harry just can’t figure out. It’s like he’s trying to hide something and Harry just wants to reach into his mind and drag it out of him. Too bad he isn’t a mind-reader.

Friends. Of course they’d have to be friends. Louis is in love with someone else. He’s going to get married. To someone that isn’t Harry. Harry’s not even sure if he’s still in love with Louis after all this time, but his heart still clenches at the thought of having Louis so close but so far away.

“Yeah, course,” Harry forces out.

Louis smiles at him, wide and bright. “Good, because I’ve missed you Hazza.”

“Me too, Lou.”

They go back to laying there in silence. Harry’s mind rushes a million miles a minute and the only thing he can think of is the fact that he’s not sure if he can be “just friends” with Louis. He’ll try though, if that’s the only way it can be.

They must fall asleep at some point because Harry wakes with the water licking his feet as the tide rises and Louis curled up next to him, his arm wrapped around Harry’s waist and head resting against Harry’s shoulder. Louis eyelashes leave smudged shadows over his cheekbones and his lips are turned into a soft smile. He sighs and snuggles closer to Harry. It’s almost the same sight Harry used to wake up to when he was 17 and Harry has to bite his tongue to keep from screaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Taylor and Tabby for editing!
> 
> Songs for this Chapter:  
> Wannabe - Spice Girls  
> I'm a Bitch - Alanis Morissette (the version i listened to) / Meredith Brooks
> 
> Also, just in general, the song I listened to while writing/editing this was the new 5SOS song, If You Don't Know. It's amazing and fits with Harry's perspective, I think.
> 
>  
> 
> [Check out the playlist for this story!](http://8tracks.com)


	4. He's No Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Louis and Harry have a complicated past, Louis is getting married to someone that’s not Harry, and the universe has decided to have a laugh and make Harry the wedding planner.

_“How do you know when it's over?"_   
_"Maybe when you feel more in love with your memories_   
_than with the person standing in front of you.”_   
_-Gunnar Ardelius_

* * *

Louis is woken up by a body falling on top of his and the smell of Chanel cologne invading his nostrils. Louis would know the weight of the man on top of him anywhere and he lets out a long strangled groan into his pillow. His back is killing him from sleeping on the sand last night before Harry had woken him. They’d gotten up and trudged groggily back to the car and driven home in companionable silence. He’d tried so hard not to think about the fact that he’d woken with his nose buried in Harry’s curls, lips pressed to his hairline, and arm slung over Harry’s chest.

He was resolutely not thinking about how he’d blinked awake and his first instinct was to press his lips to Harry’s. Nope.

“Get off me, you wanker!” Louis groans into the pillow. He turns his head to look over at the clock to see it’s now 10:00 and he has been in bed for 4 hours. Not enough sleep at all.

“You got home mighty early this morning,” the smug voice says as Louis feels the body roll off of him.

Louis buries his face into his pillow and tries to make himself go back to sleep. He doesn’t want to have this conversation, never wants to think about it again, actually. It had been a moment of weakness. Harry was his kryptonite and the person eyeing him with a stupid smug smile on his face definitely knows it.

“Go away, Zayn.”

“Where were you yesterday? Did Aiden sweep you off your feet and take you gallivanting through the countryside?” Zayn says, lips pulling up on one side and eyes twinkling with mirth.

Louis doesn’t dignify that with an answer, just narrows his eyes.

“You know, I ask because Aiden called here around eight last night wondering if you were home. Said he tried to call you but your phone was turned off. Apparently he’d skipped out on you for lunch at that café you like, and wanted to make up for it after he got off work.” Zayn’s hand comes up to pet through Louis hair and Louis is so tired that he almost lets out a purr. He doesn’t, but it’s a near thing. “He left you hanging again, babes?” Zayn asks quietly.

“Yeah,” Louis says, turning to look at Zayn. “It’s ok, though.”

“It’s not,” Zayn says through a sigh. He brings his fingers to Louis’ fringe to push it out of his eyes.

“It’s not. But it is what it is,” Louis says, looking down.

For the most part, Aiden is a great boyfriend. Well, he was at first. He’d doted on Louis and took him out to extravagant meals. He is the same age as Louis and has traveled a great deal throughout this life and has all of these interesting stories. He has a snarky wit that rivals Louis’ and he never backs down from an argument. The only problem is that well…Aiden sometimes forgets to meet up with him when he promises he will. He sometimes goes a week or so without contacting Louis and then the next week he’ll be sort of suffocating. Aiden is never possessive and really doesn’t seem to care if Louis flirts around at the clubs or parties. Maybe it’s because Aiden knows that Louis will be going home with him at the end of the night. Maybe it’s because of that one time that Louis had walked in to find a stranger’s hands down Aiden’s pants.

They don’t talk about that. They got over it. They’re fine.

Louis is shaken out of his thoughts, literally, when Zayn nudges him with his shoulder.

“Well, if you weren’t with Aiden, where were you, then?” Zayn asks. There’s a knowing glint in his eye and Louis knows he’s already figured it out.

“I went to the beach and fell asleep. No big deal,” Louis says, looking down at his fingers as he draws circles into the sheets.

“Who’d you go with?”

Well, Zayn isn’t going to let this go, is he?

“Harry might have turned up at the café and we might have come to a truce or something and then we might have spent the day…catching up?” Louis hates himself for sounding so unsure.

He was there. He should know what happened. Nothing bad had happened, so why does he feel hot coils of deceit twist in his abdomen. Zayn just nods, easy and unassuming. Even if Louis knows that his mind is working miles a minute behind his pretty brown eyes, Zayn doesn’t say anything else and Louis is thankful for such a great best mate.

Louis sits up and rubs his eyes before stretching his arms above his head and relishing on the pull of his muscles. Zayn’s a quiet, steady presence behind him and for a moment, Louis is able to keep his mind from racing through the wreck his life is quickly approaching. He breathes in the smell of old cigarettes and Chanel as he twists his shoulders around and pops his back.

“You’ve been using my Chanel,” Louis accuses Zayn as he looks down at him.

“Don’t ever claim Chanel as you,” Zayn says, brows furrowing as if he’s been personally insulted.

“Whatever,” Louis huffs out as he climbs over Zayn and grabs some jeans from the floor.

They make their way into the kitchen to see Liam sitting at the table, cup of coffee in his hand as he scans the paper. It’s nauseatingly domestic the way that Zayn goes over and kisses him on the forehead and Liam offers him up a sip of his coffee without ever taking his eyes from the paper. Louis sighs and grabs a box of Corn Pops from the counter and pours himself a bowl of cereal.

“Got in early this morning, didn’t you?” Liam asks the paper in front of him.

Louis picks up a dry piece of cereal and throws it at him. Liam looks up, large doe eyes staring at him like Louis just threw something menacing and evil instead of a piece of processed wheat.

“You and Zayn share the same mind, I swear to God,” Louis says with a roll of his eyes. “Just for the record, so everyone in this flat can be clued in to my damn personal life, I was with Harry yesterday.” Liam’s eyes widen and Louis suddenly feels like he needs to make excuses, which is stupid. “We were just hanging out and catching up. Nothing happened.”

Liam shoots a glance at Zayn who’s pouring himself a cup of tea by the stove to check his reaction to all this. Louis just rolls his eyes when Zayn shrugs as if it’s no big deal. It isn’t and everyone should be treating it as such. Liam just sighs into his cup of coffee before taking a sip.

“What. Spit it out Li,” Louis says around a spoonful of cereal.

“It’s just…,” Liam starts, and then looks to Zayn for some guidance. Zayn may be a good boyfriend, but he’s not going to help Liam out of this one. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?” he finally asks.

“What? A good idea to hang out with Harry? Of course it isn’t. It’s painful and confusing and I don’t know what I’m doing 90% of the time when he’s around. It sucks. But he’s also back in my life and I would move mountains just to keep him here. If you’re going to gripe about it, you can piss off.”

“Lou, I just don’t want to see you get hurt,” Liam says hesitantly, like he’s talking to a cornered animal. “I met you after the whole Harry thing. I don’t know what this guy is like, and I’m not going to pretend I know what’s going on with all that, but I just want you to be careful ok?”

Louis stares down at the table top, eyes focusing onto the faded penis that he’d drawn in Sharpie when he was drunk on New Year’s Eve last year and then had been made to attempt to scrub it off by an irate Liam the next morning. He knows Liam’s right, knows the likelihood of him getting hurt in this situation is rather high, but he can’t stop himself. It’s like Harry’s a drug that he’s recently re-introduced into his system and he knows that his addiction is going to be back and stronger than ever. It’s terrifying and exhilarating and Louis never wants to stop.

“And…you still have Aiden to think about,” Liam says, and it’s like a cold bucket of water has been poured over Louis’ head.

Aiden. The man he’s promised to marry. The man who said he loved him after a respectable 6 months, unlike Harry who’d blurted out his “I love you” when he was 16 and starry eyed and had only been Louis’ boyfriend for a short 3 weeks. Aiden, who had a career and knew what he wanted out of life, and was the safe option. Aiden, who doesn’t deserve Louis thinking about his ex every day. Aiden, who doesn’t even know that Louis spent the night pressed against another man last night, even if it was relatively platonic.

“Louis,” Liam says as he comes and puts his hand on Louis’ shoulder and rubs his thumb along the edge of Louis’ collarbone. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt, ok. I’m here for you and I’ll support you because I love you, but I want you to be careful.”

Sensible, kind-hearted Liam, always so cautious and wanting what is best for the people he loves. Louis leans into his touch and rests his head on Liam’s side where he’s standing pressed against Louis’ chair. Zayn claims Liam’s seat and turns the pages of the newspaper to the comics section and starts to read. It’s quiet in the aftermath of Liam’s declarations and everything is calm, everything except Louis’ swirling mind.

“You have to pick Aiden up in an hour, Louis. You’ve got an appointment with your wedding planner and you should take a shower and get cleaned up, yeah? Maybe get the sand out your hair,” Zayn says, glancing up from the comic he’d been reading about Garfield.

“Oh, I forgot about that,” Louis says with a sigh. He gets up and pats Liam on the head before he walks off towards the bathroom.

Louis takes a few minutes to stare at himself in the mirror. He looks utterly exhausted and he can see there’s still some sand caught in his hair so he reaches up and tries to rake it out. He yawns and scratches through his hair and watches as grains of sand fall to his feet. He’ll have to clean that up at some point before Liam yells at him for being a slob. Not the first time that’s happened. He strips and jumps into the shower, steam filling up the room and easing the tension in his lungs.

The hot water runs down his back and he slips his head under the spray and lets the grime from yesterday be washed away. His muscles unravel and he lets his head drop so his chin presses against his chest, his eyes closing and deep steam filled breaths sitting heavy in his chest. He’s not sure if he’s ready to be in the same room as Harry and Aiden at the same time. Not after last night. Not after spending the day with Harry’s sun-kissed skin brushing against his as they bumped shoulders walking down the beach, or after the way Harry’s eyes had focused in on his when he’d pushed his fingers into Harry’s lovebites. Louis tenses just thinking about them. The lovebites had stirred an interesting emotion in Louis’ chest that he’d refused to acknowledge and put a name to. In the steam filled room with water beating down on his head, Louis allows himself to put a name to the emotion before shoving the thought away. Jealousy.

The water runs until Louis feels his skin become pruney and even after that. He only shuts off the shower when Zayn comes to the door and tells him to get out and stop running up the bloody water bill or he’d burn his prized collection of Vans.

As he’s getting dressed, he hears his phone beep and signal a new text message. He doesn’t recognize the number, but when he opens the message he sees:

_You up? You gotta be at my office in 30 .x_

It takes a moment to figure out who is texting him. He’s got a sleepy memory of Harry asking for his number before he dropped him off this morning and him mumbling his number before climbing out of the car. He thinks Harry had even stayed to make sure Louis was inside before driving off, but he can’t be sure.

_Yeah I’m up . See you soon ._

His thumb hovers over the x to send a kiss via text. He does it a lot, adding little x’s to the end of his texts. He gives Liam and Zayn x’s all the time. Why should this be any different? He knows why, even if he’s going to be stubborn about it. At the last moment, he adds an x before sending.

_Ok :) Dive safe xx_

So they’re texting. That’s a thing now. He can deal with this.

Louis walks out of his room with a tight black shirt and a black pair of skinny jeans on, hair styled into a messy, feathery fringe. Zayn looks up from where he’s leaning over one of his art projects placed on the living room floor and smirks. Liam walks in from his and Zayn’s bedroom and lets out a low whistle.

“Better be on your way to see Loverboy,” Zayn says with a grin.

“If you’re talking about Aiden, then yes, I’m picking him up and should be on my way,” Louis says, jutting his chin out and puffing up his chest. He knows he’s being ridiculously defensive today, but he can’t help himself.

“He’s not,” Liam says with a smile as he sits down next to Zayn.

Louis watches Liam lean over and kiss Zayn’s temple before reaching out and lightly trailing a finger down the canvas that Zayn’s been slaving over for the past week. He’s speaking softly so only Zayn can hear him, probably complimenting the use of colors and detail that Zayn’s put into the work. Zayn’s eyes are doing that thing where they light up and twinkle like some Disney princess finding love at first sight and blushing as Liam coos over his work. They’re disgusting and Louis is hopelessly endeared.

* * *

 

It’s a quiet car ride after Louis picks Aiden up from his flat. There’s nothing but the radio crooning out Top 40s music and the sound of the car’s blinker as Louis waits to turn into the parking lot of the office building Harry had texted him the address to. There’s a strange air to the way that Aiden is carrying himself. He’s puffing out his chest too much and fidgeting with his fingers more than normal as he stares out the window. Louis thinks he could taste the awkwardness in the air if it was something other than his mind’s creation.

“So…ready to go in there?” Louis asks, trying to keep his voice light and unaffected by the tense situation as he parks.

“Yeah,” Aiden says with a shrug.

Louis sighs and goes to get out of the car but Aiden reaches for his hand and pulls him back. He leans in and crashes his lips onto Louis’ and pulls him roughly so their chests bump into each other. Louis makes a startled noise in the back of his throat but returns the kiss. It’s easy and familiar kissing Aiden. Aiden brings a hand up to Louis’ cheek and softens the kiss so it’s more chaste before pulling back.

“What was that?” Louis sputters out, eyes wide and staring at Aiden like he’s grown three heads.

“Just wanted to kiss you,” Aiden says with a shrug.

“But…you’ve been quiet this whole time and weird and now you want to kiss?” he asks, still trying to make sense of it all.

Aiden shrugs and Louis has about had it with these noncommittal answers. Louis purses his lips and fixes him with his best bitch face. “And?”

“Where were you yesterday?” Aiden asks, running a hand through his quiff and making some strands stick out of the perfectly slicked style.

Louis’ not sure how to answer this. He could lie and feel guilty, but he already feels guilty for gallivanting off with Harry and he doesn’t need any more guilt, thanks. He could tell the truth and hope that Aiden doesn’t push the subject.

He settles for a middle ground.

“Well, while I was waiting for you to show up, which you never did,” Louis starts. Aiden has the good graces to look mildly ashamed. “Harry showed up at the café…,” and let the lies begin, or continue, or whatever, “and we started talking and I figured that it would be nice if the wedding planner knew a bit about me and us and everything so that he could help us create the perfect wedding so we ended up talking for a while and then he needed to run some errands and I left and then just drove around for a while and enjoyed some time by myself.”

Aiden watches his face for a while, as if trying to see if the tilt of his mouth or the crease by his eye was going to give him away. Louis is an ace liar, has perfected the skill through years of lying through his teeth to avoid being sent to the principal’s office or to keep his mother from knowing that the beer bottles she found under his bed were actually, in fact, his and not Stan’s.

“You know I don’t like it when I can’t reach you, Lou,” Aiden says, finally.

“Yeah, and I don’t like being stood up,” Louis retorts, climbing out of the car.

Aiden sighs and follows him. When they reach the building, Aiden opens the door and Louis nods his thanks as he walks past him. The awkwardness is back, or it never really left, and Louis hates it. Everything was fine before Harry had waltzed back into his life.

“I’m sorry I stood you up. I got caught up in a meeting that I couldn’t get out of,” Aiden tells him as he presses the number 12 on the elevator wall.

Louis leans against the back wall and watches the numbers steadily climb from 1 to 12. At floor 8 Aiden boxes him in and peppers kisses all over his face. Louis wants to push him away but refrains. They’ve both been snappy this morning and Louis has tension holding his muscles together by a tight thread that’s ready to snap, and he needs the distraction. He lets himself relax into the soft kisses Aiden places on his face and along his jaw and breathes in the familiar smell of the spicy cologne and musky deodorant that Aiden always has on. It’s manly and strong and Louis remembers loving it at some point.

The doors chime as they open and Louis manages to come back to himself enough to push Aiden away. He’s immediately met with Harry standing on the other side of the metal doors, eyes guarded and smile too tight. Louis clears his throat and offers a small smile.

“Hiya Harry,” he says as he walks out of the elevator.

“Louis,” Harry says, voice sounding mildly strained. “Aiden, nice to see you.” Louis glances down to see Harry’s fingers twitch by his side before he brings his hands behind his back to clasp them together out of sight.

Aiden nods in greeting and Harry leads them down a hallway to his office. Niall is sitting in his own office and waves at them through the widow as they pass. Harry’s office is big with one wall made of glass so that he can see the city below. It’s a pretty nice view, and Louis decides he’s going to stare out the window instead of looking at Harry.

“So,” Harry says, clapping his hands together as he sits down on his side of the desk. “Let’s just start with basics and then move on from there, yeah?”

Louis sits down next to Aiden on what appears to be a loveseat. Harry has a loveseat in his office for loving couples to sit in while they discuss wedding plans. Lovely. Louis might want to throw up.

“So, how did you two meet?” Harry asks, writing something down in the notebook he’s got laid out on his desk.

“You two didn’t discuss this yesterday?” Aiden asks, looking between Louis and Harry.

Harry’s head shoots up to stare at Louis. He probably wasn’t expecting Louis to tell Aiden about meeting up yesterday.

“Um…no, we mostly just talked about normal stuff. I figured we’d wait on the wedding stuff until you were around, darling,” Louis answers with a tight smile. Harry has gone back to resolutely staring at his notebook.

“Oh,” Aiden says before clearing his throat. “Um….well, we met a little over a year ago at a friend’s party.”

Louis nods and plays with his fingers. This is such an awkward question.

“Let me guess. You were pouring yourself a drink and you looked over to see a beautiful boy standing in the corner and it was love at first sight?” Harry asks.

If Louis didn’t know every tone and cadence of his voice, he would have sworn Harry wasn’t taking the piss, that he was genuinely interested. The problem is that Louis does know Harry’s voice and does, in fact, know the flash in his eyes to know that he was just trying to get a rise. Fortunately, it all goes over Aiden’s head.

“Actually, no.” Aiden shifts in his seat and reaches over to grab Louis’ hand, lacing their fingers together. It’s at a weird angle, and that’s the reason, Louis tells himself, it’s his first instinct to pull his hand away. Harry’s eyes track the contact. “Louis was drunk off his ass, snogging some bloke in the corner and I was the hero that pulled him away and suggested he find someone else to snog…meaning me.”

Aiden says this all with a cheeky grin and Louis watches Harry take a deep breath, filling his lungs and making his shoulders rise as far as they will go. He mentally counts to three before Harry releases his breath and lets out an award winning smile.

“Well, isn’t that just….cute.”

“We’re the cutest,” Louis says, squeezing Aiden’s hand and aiming a smile right at Harry. “Best decision I’ve ever made. He was a much better kisser than the other guy, let me tell you.”

Harry nods and gives a noncommittal grunt as he begins to write something else in his journal. To his credit, Harry doesn’t give away his unease at the probing questions about their love lives and their hopes and dreams for their life together. He doesn’t react more than shoot a look at Louis when Aiden says he hates cats and would much rather live in a flat in the city than in a quiet village near the family. Louis knows that being in an adult relationship means compromises and if that means the kids don’t get a backyard and fancy playground when they’re little, the world isn’t going to end.

“And…kids?” Harry asks, glancing over at Louis and pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Well isn’t that just a bit personal?” Louis answers, trying to deflect. “I think we’ve had enough questions for today.”

Aiden gives him a weird look before saying, “Actually with my career, I was thinking we’d hold off on kids for a while. Or like…ever.”

Harry visibly blanches at that, skin turning pale and eyes going wide as he turns to stare at Louis.

“Lou?” he asks, voice small and a little desperate.

* * *

 

_They’re sitting on the couch in front of the TV on a Friday night. Harry’s back is pressed against the back of the couch and he’s holding Louis tight against his chest so that Louis doesn’t roll onto the floor. The couch is really too small to be spooning on, but they make it work._

_Louis’ mom comes in with a tray of freshly baked cookies in her hands and sets the tray on the table in front of them. She then plops down on the chair next to the couch to finish watching Cheaper by the Dozen with her boys. The girls are upstairs, their bedtime an hour ago, and the house is quiet._

_“Hand me a cookie, Boo,” Harry mumbles into Louis’ neck._

_Louis shivers as Harry’s breath ghosts over the side of his neck. He leans forward and feels Harry’s hands tighten around him so he won’t tumble off the edge, and grabs a cookie for each of them. When he rolls back into the soft planes of Harry’s chest, he reaches up and lets Harry take a bite of one of the cookies before turning back to the TV. Every now and then, he reaches back up and feeds Harry bits of the cookie, and then some of his own cookie, until his hands are just holding crumbs._

_He catches his mother looking at him with a fond expression on her face, her hand patting her swollen tummy, as she rocks back in forth in her chair. He squirms under her stare and snuggles further into Harry. That only makes her smile widen._

_“I want to have kids,” Harry says, relatively out of the blue. “Maybe not 12 or anything, but I want a family when I’m older.”_

_“Me too,” Louis says, hiding his smile in the back of his crumb covered hand. “12’s a bit excessive though.”_

_Louis turns his head to look up at Harry and sees that Harry’s already watching him. He smiles his soft, private Harry Smile and watches as he receives a dimpling Louis Smile in return. He can practically feel the fondness overtaking his body as he lifts up to press his lips to Harry’s. Something warm spreads from the crown of his head to the tips of his toes._

_“Even as young as you are?” Jay asks, watching them with a soft look in her eyes._

_They both nod and continue to look at each other, blushing and grinning at each other._

_“I’ve always wanted kids,” Louis says, shrugging._

_“Probably helps you have a house full of kids to train yourself with,” Harry mumbles into Louis hair when he turns back to the TV._

_Louis smiles and nods before focusing on the movie again. The house is quiet and he’s got his two favourite people beside him. It’s easy to imagine growing old in a house like this with Harry and having kids run around. The sounds of small feet hitting hardwood floors as children scamper around, jumping over abandoned toys and arguing over who gets to sit in the prime seat in the car sounds nice. He can picture it and he can’t imagine not having Harry by his side._

_When it’s almost Harry’s curfew, they untangle their limbs and stand up to stretch. Harry walks over and gives Jay a kiss on the forehead, and then leans over and kisses her baby bump, whispering “Goodnight little ones. I’ll miss you,” into the fabric of her nighty._

_Louis watches on with such a fond expression that he can feel his face contorting into a manic smile. Jay hugs Harry before he’s able to leave her grasp and then they’re heading to Louis’ car so he can drive Harry home like a proper gentleman. Louis holds Harry’s hand on the car ride over and only separates their hands long enough to get out of the car before relinking them so he can walk Harry to the door._

_“I’m thinking we can name our first child Madeline or something. It’s French, like Louis. Or maybe Darcy, I've always loved the name Darcy,” Harry says as he stops by the front door._

_Louis smiles up at his favorite boy and reaches up with his free hand to sweep the curls from Harry’s face. He then gets up on his tippy toes and kisses Harry softly on the lips._

_“I love you so much, you know that?” Louis asks against his lips._

_“Well duh, Lou. That’s why I’m asking you about baby names,” Harry mumbles before peppering kisses along Louis’ nose._

_Louis laughs and pushes him away. “Stop that!”_

_Harry leans back in and lets go of Louis’ hand so he can wind his arms around Louis’ waist. He kisses Louis slowly, lips pressed firmly together and Harry slowly licks his way into Louis mouth. Louis hums his contentment and breathes into the kiss, going pliant under Harry’s fingers. They stay like that, kissing under the light above Harry’s door, as the crickets sing in the flowerbed beside them and the cool night air caresses their bare arms._

_Eventually Harry pulls back with a light peck to Louis’ cheek and a “Goodnight, Boo, love you” before going inside._

* * *

 

Louis clears his throat to knock himself out of his thoughts before turning to Aiden. Aiden’s looking at him expectantly and he can see Harry’s face slowly starting to crumble into something close to disappointment in the corner of his eye.

“But I want kids, Aiden,” Louis says softly.

They’ve had this conversation before. Well, maybe not this exact conversation, but Louis has always hinted at the fact that he adores children. Aiden, on the other hand, doesn’t seem very fond of them. When Aiden met Louis’ siblings about 4 months into their relationship, he’d given them all quick hugs and pats on the backs before engaging Jay in conversation and ignoring the kids. Louis hadn’t much cared for that, but he’d figured that Aiden would warm up to them eventually.

Aiden sighs, “Yeah, I know. Look, can we have this discussion later?”

Louis nods and turns his attention back to Harry who’s managed to control his face better. There’s still a hint of sadness or disappointment, or maybe both, in his eyes, but his face is mostly neutral.

“Ok, um, I guess we should move on to how you want everything to look. We can still go look at venues, but I thought maybe we could go and look at flowers today?” Harry says, shuffling the papers on his desk around for something to do with his hands.

“Good idea,” Aiden says, standing up and pulling Louis along, hand still firmly clasped together.

Harry follows them to the elevator after he locks his office and tells Niall that he’s leaving. It’s a quiet ride down to the first floor, and maybe it’s not as tense of an atmosphere as Louis thinks it is, but it’s not comfortable either. As they walk out to the parking lot, Harry’s shoulder bumps into Louis and Louis lets out a long breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“I know this flower shop that does really good work. It’s a couple blocks down, so just follow me,” Harry says before heading to his car.

The shop ends up being a small little thing on a street corner named Teasdale’s Flowers. When Louis walks in with Aiden by his side, he sees that Harry’s already at the front desk talking with a woman with long grey-blue hair and tattoos covering her arms. A child comes running out from behind counter, squealing out an “UNCLE HARRY!” as Harry bends down and lifts her into the air. She’s all giggles and long blonde hair, pink cheeks and bright blue eyes.

Harry turns to see Louis and Aiden standing behind him and Louis notices that he’s wearing his first real smile of the day. He leans in to kiss the little girl on the cheek.

“This is Lux, my goddaughter, and this is her mother, Lou. She owns the flower shop,” Harry says by way of greeting. “Lou, this Louis and Aiden, my clients. They’re looking for some flower arrangements for their wedding.”

Lou looks straight at Louis and quirks her perfectly shaped eyebrow at him. He has a feeling she knows more about Louis than just the fact he’s one of Harry’s “clients.” He gives her a winning smile anyway and then makes a face at Lux.

“Well, hello there, Miss Lux! How are you today?” Louis asks her, reaching out his hand and shaking her smaller one with his fingers.

Lux giggles and buries her face in Harry’s neck. Louis is instantly endeared.

Lou comes out from behind the counter and starts to show them around while Harry hangs back and sets Lux down on the counter. Louis can hear him asking her about her day at school and what she might want for her birthday.

Aiden decides he’s going to look at one half of the shop while Louis looks at the other so that they can cover more ground. Louis thinks it’s a stupid idea seeing as they should work together to find something for their wedding that suits both of them, but whatever. He’s always thought orchids looked cool and finds a large range of colours in the far corner. There are purples and blues and reds and whites and Louis doesn’t know which one he likes best. He hasn’t even thought of a proper colour scheme, hasn’t really planned anything.

He steadfastly ignores the voice in his head that says maybe there’s a reason he hasn’t thought of a colour scheme.

A purple rose appears in front of his face and Louis turns to see Harry smiling cheekily at him.

* * *

 

_It’s early spring and Louis and Harry are laying out on the football pitch at the local park, eating sandwiches and trying to have a romantic picnic. It’s not really romantic since Louis was forced into taking his 4 younger sisters to the park to play while he and Harry had a date, but he’s trying to get over that fact. It helps that Harry’s got his head resting on Louis’ shoulder as they lay on the blanket and stare up at the clouds._

_Louis runs his fingers through Harry’s curls and Harry melts into the touch._

_“What are you thinking about, H?” Louis asks, tugging on the springy bits at the nape of Harry’s neck._

_“Flowers,” Harry answers softly, nuzzling back into Louis’ touch._

_“Why flowers?”_

_He feels Harry shrug his shoulders and it’s quiet for a while. “I was thinking about what flowers we should have at our wedding, actually.” It’s a quiet statement and Louis can tell that Harry’s trying to sound nonchalant about it._

_There’s a sick flash of fear that zips its way through Louis’ system._

_“Oh yeah, and what were you thinking?” he asks, trying to keep the panic from clawing up his chest._

_“Mmm, well it depends on the message you want, really. I was thinking roses because they’re more traditional. Orange signifies passion and attraction.” Harry sits up and slides closer so that he’s leaning over Louis and kisses him slowly. “And we both know we don’t have any problem with that.”_

_“Cheeky bugger,” Louis mumbles against Harry’s lips._

_There’s shrieking on the playground and Louis pulls away to check on his sisters. Lottie’s chasing Fizzy around and Daisy and Phoebe are still playing in the sandbox where Louis left them._

_“And red is always a good thing to use, since it signifies love and if you’re getting married, you should love your future spouse a lot.” Harry runs a finger along Louis’ jaw and it makes him shiver._

_“You like the word spouse, don’t you,” Louis mocks, grabbing hold of Harry’s hand and pulling it away from his face to kiss his knuckles._

_“Yeah. It’s like a weird combination of spider and mouse.”_

_Louis can’t keep down his fond chuckle and leans up to peck Harry’s lips._

_“But I think I like purple best,” Harry says against his cheek as he places a kiss there._

_“And why’s that, Harold?”_

_“Because purple means enchantment and desire and love at first sight. And I know it was love at first sight. You had me at ‘hi.’” Harry whispers, just for Louis to hear._

_Louis’ whole body feels strung tight, but he also feels a flush settle over his cheeks. It’s like his body wants him to be as close as possible to this curly headed boy beside him and as far away as possible at the same time. Louis settles for smiling and pulling Harry in for a passionate kiss, one full of soft lips and sliding tongues and fingers wound in each other’s hair._

_They don’t really say anything after that. Harry lays back down and puts his ear against Louis chest to listen to his heartbeat as he watches Louis’ sisters play. Louis resumes his earlier task of playing with Harry’s curls and tries not to think about the blind fear rushing through his body._

* * *

 

“I can’t use that one,” Louis says quietly so Aiden won’t turn towards them.

Harry frowns a little and twirls the rose between his fingers. “And why not?” he asks.

“Because it’s not love at first sight, it wouldn’t be right to use it,” Louis answers, turning back to the orchids.

He feels Harry take a step closer, can feel his body heat as he leans in to push his chest against Louis back. Harry’s lips brush his ear and Louis freezes. He’s not sure what to do. His blood pumps quickly through his veins and his whole body feels like it’s on fire.

“Mmm, this isn’t for that. You know that, Boo,” Harry murmurs against his ear.

Louis shivers and he knows Harry can feel it because he can feel Harry’s lips pull into a smirk. Harry steps away and walks back, voice loud and chipper as he calls out to Lux to see if she wants him to make her a pretty princess flower crown. Louis has to take a few deep breaths to ground himself before turning around. He sets the rose down, careful not to let the thorns snag his skin, and searches for Aiden. When he spots him, Louis walks up to him and puts his hand on the small of his back, scratching lightly.

“Find anything you like?” Louis asks, placing a kiss onto Aiden’s shoulder.

Aiden shrugs and pulls out a carnation from a pile of flowers and holds it up to Louis. Louis tries not to wrinkle his nose at the cheap flower, nothing compared to a velvety purple rose. This is safer though, a flower with no thorns that can cut deep and hurt for ages, so Louis smiles up at Aiden and accepts it with a kiss to his cheek.

Lux squeals behind them and Louis turns to see Harry throwing her up in the air and then blowing a raspberry on her cheek as he brings her close to his chest again. He’s so good with kids, always has been, and Louis aches to know what he’d be like as a father. Deep down, Louis knows that Aiden never wants to be a father and that if – when – they get married, the likelihood of them having kids is slim.

Louis plays with the petals of the carnation, watching them fall to the floor if he tugs too hard, and thinks about tiny feet hitting the hardwood floor of a future house with a picket fence, and waking up in the morning to a loving husband. When his mind conjures up the images of waking up to bright green eyes and unruly curls instead of dark brown eyes and a messy quiff, Louis shakes his head and tries to focus on the flowers around him.

He tries not to think about the significance of it all as he drops the carnation in the waste bin and returns to pick up the rose before they leave. Harry follows them out of the store, shouting his goodbye to Lou and Lux, and places his hand discreetly on the small of Louis back as they walk to their cars.

“Nice flower,” Harry says under his breath, a smug smile taking over his pretty lips.

Louis ignores him and steps away from the burning fingers on his back. He doesn’t look at Harry before climbing into the car with Aiden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait guys! I've been super busy. Just completed my first major project at work!
> 
> I know this chapter is kind of boring, but it's supposed to set up Aiden and Louis' relationship a little more and show their dynamics.  
> Also, domestic Ziam is my weakness.
> 
> Thank you Taylor and Tabby, once again :)
> 
>  
> 
> [Check out the playlist for this story!](http://8tracks.com)


	5. Keep Me Spinning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Louis and Harry have a complicated past, Louis is getting married to someone that’s not Harry, and the universe has decided to have a laugh and make Harry the wedding planner.

_I don't dance, but here I am_  
 _Spinning you around and around in circles._  
 _It ain't  my style, but I don't care_  
 _I'd do anything with you anywhere._  
 _Yes, you got me in the palm of your hand_  
 _Cause, I don't dance  
_ _\- Lee Brice_

* * *

_The reception hall is illuminated in a soft blue light from powder blue lanterns placed sporadically around the room. Music plays loudly and makes the ground shake slightly, and teenagers in various states of formalwear are all swaying uncoordinatedly to the beat. There’s nothing graceful about it. Everyone is sweaty and there are a few brave souls in the middle of the crowd that have locked lips and with hands running under dress shirts and up skirts, but Louis watches teachers walk over and separate them quickly._

_It’s prom….and it’s all Louis thought it would be. It’s pretty boring, decorations are tacky, and the music playlist sucks, but it’s a rite of passage or something._

_Zayn’s off talking to a girl from his Biology class named Perrie. She changes her hair colour on a weekly basis and this week it’s bright pink which offsets her shimmering silver gown beautifully. Louis sighs and takes a sip of the watered down punch in his hand. He hasn’t decided if Zayn’s only straight or not, but he seems to be kind of into Perrie. It’s a work in progress._

_His eyes scan the crowd to see Harry dancing – well flailing – around on the dance floor, head thrown back as he laughs, body shaking with each intake of breath, and utterly shining. He’s got on a black tux with a blue bowtie that might possibly, definitely match Louis’ eyes. Louis may have put on an emerald green bowtie to match Harry’s eyes. He’ll never admit it unless he’s wrapped up in cotton sheets with his boy snuggled next to him in the dead of night. The suit looks amazing on Harry, pulls tight against his broad shoulders and the slacks hug his small bum and all Louis wants to do is go over and kiss him senseless. The urge to step in front of the blonde girl dancing next to Harry is almost overpowering. It makes his palms sweat and fingers twitch with the need to latch on to the boy’s curls and never let go._

_He can’t though. He can’t._

_Louis really wishes that he could have found a way to spike the punch. Be all cliché and that._

_The problem is that Louis hasn’t exactly made it known to everyone that he’s dating Harry. Harry, who in fact has a penis, which makes him a male. Louis isn’t exactly out. Harry’s not actually out either, but he’s not one to deny his sexuality when someone’s rude enough to ask him straight out. Louis only just came out to his mother a few weeks ago, and that was enough to possibly send him into a catatonic state of nerves before Harry had pushed him down the stairs and had been a steady presence urging the words “I’m dating Harry and I love him, please don’t hate me,” shakily out of his mouth in one big breath._

_It’d been fine. She still loved him, still loved Harry, and had welcomed it all with open arms and reassuring smiles. He loves his mother very much._

_Though, she did say that Harry couldn’t come over for sleepovers anymore. Harry still sneaks over most nights once his mother’s asleep. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her._

_She’s the only one he’s told, other than Zayn. Shoving his tongue down Harry’s throat is probably some form of admittance as well, so Harry’s added to the short list. Louis likes to think that he doesn’t care what people think, but he does. He really does. His stepfather, Mark, has been fighting with his mom a lot lately, loud yelling matches that make his sisters burst into tears and make his heart sink with a foreboding and dreadful feeling. Once, Mark was one of his favourite people, but now, it’s like a huge crater has been formed between them and Louis doesn’t know how to fix it. He can’t trust Mark. His sisters are too young to understand, and his grandfather sure as hell doesn’t need to know. So…it’s just his mom, Zayn, and Harry, and that’s ok._

_Anyway, it had been a terrifying experience, outing himself like that. He doesn’t exactly want to do it in front of the entire school. Harry had pouted out his lower lip and his eyes had flashed with hurt when Louis had said no to the small bouquet of flowers and note the said “Prom?” but Louis just couldn’t do it. Harry had understood, of course he did, but that didn’t mean he had been happy about it._

_Louis had decided to fly solo to prom so that he wouldn’t feel awkward taking a girl. Harry apparently didn’t have a problem taking a girl as his date, even if she was just a friend, and had asked a girl from his English class. Her name is Cara and she has long platinum blonde hair and big blue eyes on a body fit for modelling. Louis had been jealous, so insanely jealous, and continues to be even though Harry had rolled his eyes and then pointed down the hall and said, “That’s her girlfriend.”_

_So yeah, Louis is jealous of a girl who isn’t even interested in the male gender. No one has to know._

_The lights dim and one of the chaperones that Louis doesn’t know steps up on stage to announce Prom King and Queen. Everyone waits with bated breath, except Louis is finding his nails much more interesting to look at than the balding man with the microphone. He studiously ignores the butterflies in his stomach and tries not to think about his name on the ballot. Frankly, he doesn’t even know how it got there. Sure, he’s one of the best footie players the school has on the team, but he’s nothing special._

_“And Prom King is……Louis Tomlinson!”_

_Louis looks up with a start and suddenly he’s being pushed towards the stage as people around him start to cheer. He walks up and dumbly takes the crown. It’s made of plastic, because of course it is. It’s cheap and looks easily breakable, but Louis can’t stop staring at it anyway. The Prom Queen ends up being his ex, Hannah, the girl he’d dated for a while before he noticed Harry walking around the halls at school and had realized that he should probably accept the fact that he wanted Harry a hell of a lot more than Hannah. Hannah had accepted the breakup rather civilly, and by the way she gives him knowing looks around school, she’s figured out that Harry isn’t just a friend._

_She offers him a kind smile and they hold hands for show. Louis glances down to see Harry grinning up at him with his fist raised to give Louis a thumb up. Louis returns the gesture and smiles down at his boy, can feel his face turn into a fond mess._

_The music for the expected first slow song starts to play. It’s customary for the Prom King and Queen to share a dance, but suddenly Louis knows exactly what he has to do._

_Harry’s staring at him with wide green eyes and a smile stretched over his cheeks, so big it looks like it hurts, and everything inside of Louis is screaming at him._

_“Go,” Hannah whispers to him, squeezing his hand softly before letting go._

_Louis nods at her before exiting the stage. He sees Zayn out the corner of his eye staring at him with a quirked eyebrow. It doesn’t matter what Zayn’s thinking because Harry’s staring at him still and Louis needs to touch him. It feels like he’s suffocating._

_Harry is standing right in front of a lantern so there’s a bluish halo surrounding his curls and his green eyes now have flecks of blue in them. It’s like a piece of Louis has wormed its way literally into Harry’s bloodstream, and Louis likes that thought a lot. His whole body is thrumming with a need to touch Harry, to make sure he exists. Staying quiet, staying hidden, suddenly doesn’t matter anymore because his boy is watching him with big fond eyes that are probably shooting literal hearts out of them._

_“Dance with me,” Louis whispers desperately as he approaches Harry. The music is loud and there are so many people around, some casting him curious glances, but he doesn’t care when Harry nods._

_They take a timid step towards each other and Louis’ hands slip down to their favourite resting spot on Harry’s hips, and Harry wraps his arms around Louis’ neck. They fit together like puzzle pieces and Louis can feel his body slacken and release tension he didn’t even know he’d been carrying when Harry’s fingers start to play with the hairs at the nape of his neck._

_“People are staring, Lou,” Harry says softly, and Louis can see Harry casting quick glances around._

_“Let them,” Louis says back firmly. He tightens his hold on Harry’s hips. “I don’t care anymore.”_

_Harry looks back at Louis and he’s smiling Louis’ favourite smile, the smile that dimples his cheeks and ignites his eyes. He can tell that Harry wants to ask what’s changed, why he’s all of a sudden ok with everyone knowing, but he just shakes his head. He’s not exactly sure of the reason himself, but something feels right about this moment in time._

_Harry accidently misses a stop and stumbles closer to Louis, stepping on his toes in the process. Louis groans and shakes his head exasperatedly, but they both end up grinning at each other anyway. There’s a calmness that washes over them as they dance together, like there aren’t a hundred pairs of eyes on them, watching sceptically and waiting to add to the gossip mill they know will be buzzing around the halls Monday morning._

_It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. If they get dirty words thrown at them in the hallway on Monday, Louis knows it’s just words. He knows it’ll be fine. He knows because right now he’s got his beautiful boy in his arms and his boy is smiling his favourite smile. Everything’s going to be fine._

* * *

 

“Why are we doing this again?” Aiden asks, rubbing his eyes and pushing his floppy fringe out of his face.

“Because I haven’t slow danced in ages and I don’t want to mess up on our wedding day,” Louis says for the umpteenth time as he pulls into the parking lot of the dance studio. He glances over to see that Harry’s car is already parked in the far corner. “Plus…you kind of suck at slow dancing.”

Aiden grunts before yawning. “But it’s ass o’clock on a Saturday!” he whines, stepping out of the car.

“Well it’s the only time they had open. It’s just one Saturday, Aiden,” he says, fighting back a yawn of his own. So maybe it wasn’t his idea to get up at 8am on a Saturday either, but Harry had scheduled the appointment.

Bloody morning people.

They walk in to see Harry talking to a girl with super curly brown hair and mile-long legs. Harry turns around when he hears them and smiles softly at Louis before using his more formal smile with Aiden. Louis can definitely tell the difference and wants to roll his eyes, but refrains.

“Let’s get on with this then,” Louis says through a sigh. “It’s early and I hate early mornings.”

Harry smirks as if to say he already knew this and that’s why he did it, but Louis ignores him and turns to the girl who must be the studio’s choreographer.

“I’m Danielle,” she says, sticking out her hand for Louis and Aiden to shake. “H and I go way back. I’m the one he brings all his hopeless clients to.”

“Way back, huh?” Aiden says, wiggling his eyebrows.

Louis does roll his eyes this time.

“Hopeless? Excuse me, but have you seen the giant giraffe over here dance? Bloody awful,” Louis retorts, crossing his arms. It takes a moment to realize he probably shouldn’t have said that with Aiden standing right next to him. “I mean, look at him with those gangly limbs. Probably steps on your toes or summat.”

Aiden’s phone goes off and Louis watches him dig into his pocket and wince as he reads the name on the screen. He lets out a long-winded sigh before turning away from the group, mumbling “I gotta take this,” and walks out the door.

The three remaining in the room awkwardly stand around for a few seconds before Danielle walks over to the stereo.

“Get in position, Styles,” Danielle calls over her shoulder as she scrolls through her iPod.

“Wait, what?” Louis squeaks, as Harry grabs his wrist and pulls him to the center of the room.

“You’re going to be leading, yes?” Harry asks, turning to Louis and putting his hands on his shoulders. Louis nods and goes still under Harry’s fingers. “Doesn’t matter how shit Aiden is if you can lead properly. Plus, I know for a fact you’re great at…directing people”

Louis almost chokes and watches as Harry’s face turns innocent and cherub-like, as if he didn’t insinuate anything sexual in the slightest.

“Is that what she’s been teaching you?” Louis asks, trying to find air to bring into his lungs. Then it dawns on him. “You totally knew this would happen, didn’t you? You knew Danielle would want me to practice leading.”

“Well I didn’t think Aiden would leave the room, but that’s certainly convenient,” Harry answers with a smirk before taking a step closer. “I’d say I’m pretty lucky.”

Louis shakes his head at the man in front of him and rests his hands on Harry’s hips. His thumbs find the indentions of his v-lines and he doesn’t think about it before his thumbs to stroke over the soft cotton of the shirt there. He feels Harry shiver slightly under his ministrations and flashes a cheeky grin.

“Ready?” Danielle calls from the corner. When they nod, she hits play and music starts to pump through the speakers located at each corner of the studio.

The opening notes of All of Me cause Louis to tighten his grip on Harry before he nods and takes a step back. Harry follows his moves with sharp eyes and surprisingly coordinated movements.

 _What would I do without your smart mouth,_  
Drawing me in and kicking me out.  
You’ve got my head spinning.

At the word “spinning” Louis starts to turn and Harry follows, as if he can guess what Louis’ about to do next. Maybe he can. Their bodies have always been scarily in tune. He used to reach for a water bottle in class, and in the corner of his eye he’d see Harry doing the same thing at the same exact moment. As if they were actual mirrors. It’d been freaky and kind of cute…but mainly freaky.

 _My head’s underwater,_  
But I’m breathing fine.  
You’re crazy and I’m out of my mind.

Harry smirks and pulls away slightly to spin Louis around, twirling him under his arm. Louis nearly trips and falls on his face. Wasn’t he supposed to be leading?

“I’m leading, you twat!” Louis growls, pulling Harry in closer than before. “You follow me and be good.” He watches Harry’s eyes dilate slightly and a warm feeling floods over him. He hasn’t been able to do that in so long. He’d forgotten the kind of rush it gave him. Harry nearly falls over himself trying to follow Louis’ next moves. “Good boy,” he purrs softly.

Harry practically preens under the words and his face flushes a little. Maybe it’s just from spinning and dancing, but Louis doubts it. Harry doesn’t try to pull away again. He follows Louis subtle instructions as they twirl around in circles.

“Ok, now try some fancy footwork,” Danielle says from the corner, eyes narrowed as she watches them.

Louis looks up at the man in front of him and takes a deep breath, preparing for Harry to trip and fall as he switches up the tempo a bit and changes their spin cycle. He tries too much at once, but it isn’t Harry that miscalculates and nearly falls. Louis trips over his own feet and Harry’s strong hands slip down to grab at his back to keep him steady.

“Thanks,” Louis breathes, before regaining his composure and picking up the pace again.

“Anything for you, babe,” Harry whispers back, eyes wide but lips pulled into a smug grin.

Louis sighs and attempts to ignore the shocks going through his system as he tries not to notice Harry’s huge hands on the small of his back. Both of their hands are on each other’s backs and it’s a bit awkward, so Louis reaches up and tugs on one of Harry’s curls, hard. It’s punishment for Harry’s cheekiness, that’s all. Harry bites his lip and makes a choked off sound in the back of his throat. Louis feels a rush of satisfaction at being able to rile Harry up a bit.

They keep moving, completely in tune with each other’s bodies. It’s amazing.

 _Give your all to me,_  
I’ll give my all to you.  
You’re my end and my beginning.  
Even when I lose, I’m winning,  
‘Cause I give you all of me.

Harry must be getting brave because he leans down and nuzzles at Louis’ neck as he shifts closer. Harry’s breath is warm against his neck and for a split second Louis thinks he might start to kiss the soft skin there. He doesn’t. Just nuzzles with his nose and breathes air hot enough to burn.

Louis yanks on Harry’s curls to bring him back up and Harry lets out a delicious whine.

“No, Hazza,” he says softly. Harry sighs into Louis touch as he starts to scratch over the scalp where he’d just pulled his hair. “No, Baby.”

Harry whines but keeps his rhythm, amazingly, and Louis is more than impressed. Harry used to be horrible at this. He doesn’t allow himself to think of Harry practicing with other people.

The song comes to a close with light instrumentation, and Danielle’s clapping pulls them out of their daze. He’d completely forgotten about her along with the fact that they were in a studio. Funny, that.

He glances around and notices that Aiden’s not in the room either. Thank God.

“Well I think you’ll do just fine with the dancing,” Danielle says, walking back over to them.

Danielle places a hand on Harry’s shoulder and Harry ducks out of the touch almost instantly, hands clasped behind his back and feet pigeon-toed. Louis remembers that stance and is suddenly very confused about whether he should let words of praise fall from his lips or ignore it since, well, he and Harry aren’t _that_ anymore.

The decision is made for him when Aiden comes walking back in. Louis lets out a sigh and takes a step further away from Harry and ignores the ache in his chest.

“Ready to do some dancing now that you’re done?” Louis asks. The words come out a little harsher than he intended, but Aiden doesn’t seem to be fazed by it.

“Guess so,” he says, stepping up to Louis.

Danielle goes over and starts to play a new song on the stereo, something not as sweet and moving that Louis has never heard before. The pace is a little quicker and he notices that the lyrics aren’t as heartfelt or flow as nicely together.

Aiden stumbles and Louis doesn’t find it endearing. He gets his foot stepped on multiple times and he has to fight to keep the scowl off of his face. It’s not smooth and Louis realizes just how out of sync he and Aiden are to each other since they can’t even master a simple slow dance.

He absolutely doesn’t compare Aiden’s dancing skills to Harry’s. Not in the slightest.

Louis can see Harry standing over in the corner, arms crossed over his chest and hand reaching up to pull at his bottom lip. The fire in his eyes from earlier is gone and his body is slack, no longer held tight and waiting at attention. The change in posture affects Louis more than it should.

* * *

 

Louis is watching a rerun of Made in Chelsea, curled up on Aiden’s couch, and stuffing his face full of crisps. Aiden’s in his office at the back of the flat, looking through paperwork and doing God knows what else, even though he’d promised Louis that they’d have a night in and just watch movies and hang out together.

This always seems to happen.

_H: Heeeeeeeey :)_

Louis smiles down at his phone and picks it up, sliding his finger over the unlock icon.

_Hey Hazza. What’s up?_

_H: Want to come see a band tonight ?? Gemma’s bfs band is going to be therreeee_

Louis bites his lip and glances over to the hallway where Aiden had disappeared hours earlier. The best thing would be to go into Aiden’s office and remind him that he has a fiancé sitting patiently in the den waiting for affection.

Louis tells himself that Aiden wouldn’t come out of his study even with persuasion and that’s the reason he responds to Harry.

_Sure !! Text me the address and I’ll be over in a bit_

* * *

The bar is pretty packed by the time that Louis arrives. He’d told Aiden he was going to meet up with some friends at the pub and Aiden had just waved him off with an “ok, see you later.” It should have irked Louis more than it did. Maybe he’s just used to it.

Louis spots Niall first. He’s sitting at the bar, leaning over the polished wood and talking with the bartender, grinning wide and using his Irish charm to the best of his abilities.

“Hey Niall!” Louis calls over the roar of the crowd as he slaps a hand on Niall’s back.

Niall turns around and gives Louis a grin. “Hey Louis! Fancy seeing you here, mate.”

“Yeah, Harry invited me. Said something about his sister’s boyfriend’s band or summat,” Louis answers as he raises a hand to get the bartender’s attention.

Niall nods and smirks into his pint. There’s a gleam in his eye that Louis decides to ignore as he orders. The bartender places a beer in front of him and he takes a swig before either of them say anything else.

“Harry’s backstage talking with the boys. He’ll be out in a bit,” Niall shouts, leaning in so that he can be heard.

Louis nods and turns to look around the club. His eyes fall on a shock of bouncy hair bobbing its way through the crowd. Harry appears a few minutes later after pushing his way through the crowd little by little.

“It’s a great turn out, don’t you think?” he asks Niall as he makes it to them.

“Wicked. I’d say this is the largest crowd they’ve had so far,” Niall says, a proud fondness coloring his tone.

“Niall is such a fangirl over this band. He even plays guitar with them sometimes and nearly wees himself, he gets so excited,” Harry explains to Louis as he motions to the bartender for a beer. Once he’s made his order, he properly turns to Louis and beams. “Glad you could make it.”

“Yeah, me too,” Louis says softly, not sure if the words even carry to Harry’s ears. “So what’s the name of this band, then?” Louis says louder so he is sure he’s heard.

“5 Seconds of Summer!” Niall shouts, eyes filling with happiness. “Best band in the world!! Such cool lads and they all play instruments. They’re great!”

“Niall has, like, every piece of memorabilia that the band sells. Got most of it for free even ‘cause the guys adore Niall almost as much as he loves them,” Harry says before taking a long drag from his beer.

Louis smiles fondly at Niall but can’t seem to keep his eyes off of Harry’s skintight black jeans and atrocious button down top. It’s black and white and has some weird flowery pattern on it and it’s so ugly but Harry pulls it off and Louis can’t exactly figure out how it’s happening.

“Nice shirt,” Louis says, nodding at the offending article of clothing.

Harry just beams and says “thanks,” with a blush crawling up his cheeks. It’s a delicious color, Harry’s blush. It slowly travels up his neck and through his cheeks. Harry blushes with his whole body because he ducks his head a little and sways back and forth like a little four year old girl who just got told her dress looks pretty. It’s adorable.

Louis doesn’t have the heart to tell him how ugly it really is.

All of a sudden there’s a blonde girl standing next to Harry. She looks like she could be Harry’s twin but Louis knows she’s a few years older and she’s got a witty and conniving mind that rivals his.

“Louis,” she says, tone not exactly cold but not warm either.

“Gem,” Harry warns, nudging her shoulder with his.

Louis shrinks away from her a tad and prays that no one notices. By the way that Gemma’s lips twist up into a smirk, she’s definitely spotted his defensive movement.

“Hello, Gemma, nice to see you again,” Louis says as politely as he can.

It sucks the way that Gemma’s watching Louis like a hawk and that she’s instinctively taken a small step in front of her brother. It’s not that noticeable, but her shoulders are tense and she’s leaning a little to the left to block part of Harry’s chest. Louis can’t really blame her.

They used to get along. He and Gemma would team up at the dinner table and make jokes about Harry for the entire meal, laughing and trying to one-up each other with embarrassing stories. They’d gotten along swimmingly and their sharp wits helped them form a quick friendship. She’d accepted Louis with open arms into the Styles’ family and it had been as if he’d belonged.

Maybe if Louis looks deep enough, he can see that she still loves him to pieces, but right now she’s got her Protective Big Sister mask on and it’s quite terrifying.

“Didn’t think I’d ever see your sorry ass again. Especially around my brother,” Gemma says, keeping her voice low.

That’s probably a fair assumption, but it seems that fate’s had other ideas. The idea of never seeing Harry again creates a shooting pain all throughout Louis’ body and he quickly dismisses the thought. Even in the back of his mind, Louis thinks he always knew he’d see Harry again. It was destiny, or whatever.

“Gemma,” Harry says sharply, moving away and breaking her protective stance with a steadying hand on her shoulder. “Drop it, ok. It’s been years and Louis and I have worked on our differences. Chill out.”

Gemma sighs and drops her arms, but her eyes are still cold.

Louis can’t blame her. Not one bit. The last time she saw him was when he was running down the stairs and out the front door of her home, tears running down his face as her little brother ran after him, screaming at the top of his lungs, tears streaming down his own face, begging for Louis to come back. It’s not a good memory for anyone.

She watches him calculatedly for a few more moments before all her defenses seem to drop away.

“If you ever hurt him again, I will find you and I will cut your balls off and stuff them down your throat,” she warns.

Louis gulps and flinches away from her.

“Noted,” he says, grabbing his beer and just downing it. He needs alcohol like yesterday.

Gemma watches him finish off his glass and cracks a small smile. “You look like you could use some shots Tomlinson.”

Suddenly a row of shots appears on the bar and Niall whoops as he grabs a glass and throws his head back. Louis watches the amber liquid leave the glass and disappear behind his lips.

Gemma grabs a shot glass and holds it up to Louis to take and then hands one to Harry before taking one herself.

“To mending fences,” she says through a sigh.

She throws the shot back and squeezes her eyes shut against the burn of the liquid. Louis isn’t watching her though. He’s watching the way Harry’s  adam’s apple works against the liquid running down his throat and the path a stray drop of liquor takes as it rolls down his neck and under his shirt collar. Before anyone can notice, Louis takes his shot and manages not to sputter at the burning sensation in his throat and chest.

* * *

 

About forty five minutes, 2 beers and 5 shots later, Louis is feeling pretty happy with his life. His mind is numb and his body feels loose and pliant. Alcohol is a gift from the gods. He’s got a loud and brash Irishman sitting beside him, Gemma’s finally stopped giving him the evil eye, he’s listening to a lovely band who looks like they’re having fun rocking out on their guitars and drums, and he’s got his Harry right next to….

Wait, where did Harry go?

Louis takes a quick look around and doesn’t spot him anywhere. He’s about to ask Niall what happened to him when a loud shock of feedback comes in through the speaker and makes him wince.

“Sorry about that everyone,” the blonde singer says. Louis thinks he remembers his name being Luke. “We’ve got a couple more songs for you tonight, but we’re going to have some help with the next one, if you don’t mind.”

Louis watches as Harry takes the stage and the crowd erupts in cheers. He’s still wearing that God awful shirt, but it’s now only half buttoned and shows off a bird chest piece and the top of a butterfly. This boy is ridiculous.

“Give it up for Harry Styles, everybody!” the green-haired guy – Michael – shouts. He doesn’t even need a microphone.

The crowd keeps cheering and Harry’s handed a spare mic from one of the techies. Harry goes over and playfully hits one of the symbols on the drums and Ashton, the drummer who is apparently dating Gemma and is the reason that Gemma’s here and torturing Louis tonight, slaps Harry’s hand away with a fond but exasperated look. Harry grins at him and then walks to stand next to Luke.

Luke nods to Ashton and Ashton counts off before the opening guitar riff rips through the air. Louis doesn’t think he can breathe. He’s heard Harry sing, of course he has, Harry used to sing all the damn time, but he was always so shy about it. Hated being on stage. Now he’s up on stage about to belt out lyrics with people staring and cheering at him. There’s a mix of pride and total astonishment swirling in Louis chest, and he’s not sure which emotion is going to win.

Their voices blend so well and when Harry joins in at the hook, the rasp of his baritone just adds a whole new dimension and Louis is dumbstruck.

When the rest of the boys’ voices fade away and Harry takes on a solo, Louis gets up from his barstool and pushes through the crowd, eyes glued to the way Harry’s clutching at the microphone and eyes fluttering shut as he opens his mouth.

 _Cause I remember the taste of your skin tonight_  
And the way that you looked, you had those eyes.  
I remember the way I felt inside  
And the name of the songs that made you cry.  
You would scream, we would fight, you would drive me crazy.  
I would laugh, you were mad, but you’d always kiss me.  
And the shirt that I had that you always borrowed.

Harry’s eyes snap open and latch on to Louis’.

_When I woke, it was gone,  
There was no tomorrow._

The boys come back in to sing the final chorus and hook, and Louis walks closer to the stage. It’s like there’s a magnetic pulse running through his blood and it’s drawing him closer to where Harry’s standing, swaying to the beat of the music.

 _Go ahead, rip my heart out,_  
If you think that’s what love’s all about.  
Go ahead, rip my heart out,  
go ahead rip my heart out.

Louis isn’t sure if he can breathe. Harry’s gaze in intense and so green, and there are so many bodies cheering and pressing in on him that he’s feeling claustrophobic. He doesn’t want to rip Harry’s heart out, but the voice at the back of his mind is screaming that of course he’s going to hurt Harry. He’s always going to hurt Harry because he doesn’t deserve him. Doesn’t deserve the curls and the dimples, the bright eyes and the loud laughter, or the way, even now, after six years, Harry’s still a magnet pulling him in and accepting him bruised and battered.

Louis shakes his head and manages to pull his eyes away from Harry long enough to take a deep breath. He pushes through the crowd and finds the closest exit. It leads to an ally outside and Louis leans against the wall, brick scratching his back through his thin shirt. The air is cool, clears some of the alcoholic haze from his mind.

He doesn’t want to hurt Harry. He can’t. He won’t.

Here in the dead of night, with no prying eyes to watch him and read his thoughts, Louis lets himself think about Harry. Really think about Harry and what’s going on. Lets himself think about the fact that Harry’s hands still feel like sparks of fire every time they touch him, how Louis’ mind still turns to mush when Harry smiles his Louis Smile, and the fact that Harry still fucking has a Louis Smile and that Louis can still recognize it after six fucking years.

He thinks about it all while taking deep, even breaths and trying to push the alcohol from his mind so that he can focus better. The stars are pretty in the sky and catch his attention. The door opens beside him, but he knows who’s going to be standing there before they even breathe a word.

“Lou,” Harry says hesitantly, stepping closer. “What’s wrong?”

Louis lets out a harsh laugh and doesn’t even have enough control over his mind to regret it. He’s still swimming in those shots. Maybe he shouldn’t have taken so many in such quick succession and then followed them up with beers. Alcohol is no longer his friend.

Louis turns to see Harry watching with a wary expression on his face, hands outstretched like he wants to touch but not sure if he’s allowed. What kind of bullshit is that anyway? Harry’s allowed. Harry’s always allowed to touch Louis. Louis’ body literally craves it.

And isn’t that just fucked up. Wanting someone other than his fucking fiancé to touch him. Wanting Harry’s hands running through his hair and down his back, wanting them sliding under his shirt and craving for Harry to kiss soft lines down his torso and…

Louis kills that thought right there.

“What isn’t wrong, Harry?” Louis asks after too long of a pause with a slightly hysterical edge to his tone.

Harry sighs and leans against the bricks next to Louis. They’re both facing each other now and Louis can practically feel Harry’s breath on his face. When did he get that close?

Maybe he should shut up, knows that he shouldn’t be telling Harry any of this, but his brain is giving out commands that he is powerless to stop.

“I mean, look at us. We’re fucked up. We used to date, and then I ran out on you, and now you’re planning my fucking wedding and I know you hate it. Don’t tell me you don’t because then you’re a fucking liar. And then I’m around you and everything just gets so confusing and I’m too drunk to be talking about this with you, but then you sang that song about getting your heart ripped out and I don’t want to do that, Harry. I don’t want to hurt you ever again, but I think I might do it anyway. And I’m sorry.”

Harry’s eyes slowly trace over Louis’ face, as if he’s looking for something. Louis stares up at Harry and watches the soft breeze tousle his hair. The curls have been tamed tonight into long waves, probably from Harry running his hands through it too many times. He can’t keep himself from reaching up and twisting a lock of hair around his finger.

“I want to kiss you,” Harry says softly, as if he’s scared to say it too loudly and ruin everything.

“I don’t want to hurt you again,” Louis replies, just as quietly.

Some part of his brain that isn’t drowning in alcohol is telling him to get the fuck out of there because this is a bad, bad, bad situation. His body isn’t listening.

“Lou, I literally just sang to about a hundred people that I wouldn’t mind getting my heart ripped out by you…again.” Harry reaches around and rests his hand on the small of Louis’ back. It feels like sparklers ignite in Louis’ stomach.

“I know,” Louis mumbles, looking down and biting his lip. “But we can’t do this Harry. I can’t do this. It’s not fair to either or us. Or to-“

Harry shakes his head quickly and Louis cuts himself off because saying the name would really ruin everything and Louis would quite like to stay right here in this moment for a while. Harry’s hair is blowing softly and his eyes are wide and oh so green and his lips are parted slightly. The hand on his back is slowly drawing circles and Louis just wants to stay here forever.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” Harry breaths, leaning in.

There are a million and one reasons that Louis should push him away. He knows that if he even put the slightest pressure on Harry’s chest, that he’d stop right away and pull back. Louis keeps his hands by his side. He watches as Harry’s eyes flutter closed and then Louis shuts his own eyes and feels soft lips press into his.

It’s like something clicks inside his mind and body starts screaming “YES!” at the top of its lungs and Louis is totally powerless. He feels like jelly about to seep into the ground and Harry must feel his body going limp against his because he tightens his arm around Louis and presses him against the wall. Louis’ whole body feels like it’s on fire.

Harry slides his tongue softly against Louis lips and Louis opens them on reflex. It’s been a long time since he’s kissed Harry, but it’s like muscle memory takes over and Louis knows exactly what to do. His fingers tangle in Harry’s hair and Harry places a hand on Louis’ cheek, his thumb pushing on Louis’ jaw to tilt his head back a little further and change the angle. It’s glorious the way their lips meld together and their breathing syncs up.

The kiss lasts for too long and ends too quickly and Louis isn’t sure how he’s feeling. His skin is burning and his mind is racing, but the voice telling him to run is getting louder and more persistent.

“You’re getting that look in your eye,” Harry whispers as his hand comes up to card through Louis’ hair. They’re still pressed impossibly close.

“What look?” Louis asks breathlessly. He needs to get away.

“That look you get when you’re about to run,” Harry says with a shrug. “But you’re not going to this time.”

“I’m not?”

“Nope.” Harry obnoxiously pops the “p” and Louis feels his breath wash over his lips.

“And why is that?”

Harry leans back in and kisses Louis one more time. It’s a quick kiss but Harry bites down on Louis bottom lip before pulling away and Louis knows he’s going to be feeling the ghost of the sting for a while.

Harry’s smirking when he says, “Goodnight Boobear.”

Louis is still pressed against the wall as he watches Harry walk back into the pub. The door opens and music washes out into the empty alleyway, but when the door closes Louis is met only with the sound of his own breathing and frantically beating heart.

Half of Louis is screaming at him to run after Harry and the other half is yelling for him to run away. Louis decides to stay right where he is, right next to the dumpster and the alley cat walking down the side street. It’s possible he could get mugged at any second, but he can’t find it in himself to care.

His mind settles on a loop of the same phrase he tells himself every time his traitorous mind wants to be with Harry. He’s been telling himself the same line since he was 19 and bawling his eyes out on the freeway as he drove away from his boy.

_I don’t deserve Harry Styles. I will ruin him. I don’t deserve Harry Styles. I will ruin him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the lovely comments guys! They make me smile and make me want to keep writing!
> 
> Thanks Taylor and Tabby!
> 
> songs for the chapter:  
> All of Me - John Legend  
> If You Don't Know - 5SOS
> 
>  
> 
> [Check out the playlist for this story!](http://8tracks.com)


	6. Run Little Bear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Louis and Harry have a complicated past, Louis is getting married to someone that’s not Harry, and the universe has decided to have a laugh and make Harry the wedding planner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter literally fought me on ever turn. I'm so sorry that it's been so long since I last posted. This chapter hated me. I wasn't expecting it to end like this, but it just kind of ran away with me after I finally stopped fighting with it.
> 
> WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER - VERBAL ABUSE FROM A PARENTAL FIGURE, HOMOPHOBIC SLURS  
> I just added it to the tags but these tags apply to the chapter.

_"I thought I had lost him for good._  
 _Silly me, I should've known love wasn't through with us._  
 _I should've known love would bring him back."  
_ _-Kelsey West_

* * *

Two weeks after the kiss at the club, Harry can still feel Louis’ lips pressed to his and his fingers carding through his hair. It’s like Harry’s a moth to a flame and Louis is the fucking sun. Always so bright and beautiful. Even on a cloudy day, when his outer light might be muted, he still burns so brightly and Harry is helplessly captivated.

The morning after the kiss, Harry had walked into the kitchen of his and Niall’s crummy flat and watched as Niall poured himself a bowl of cereal. When Niall sat down, Harry had just unloaded. He told Niall about the singing and how he’d watched Louis walk towards him, pushing past grinding, sweaty bodies, with their eyes on each other, and how he’d seen Louis’ face change from adoration to pure terror and he’d gotten that look in his eye he used to get late in their relationship and Harry had known he was going to bolt before his body had even turned around.

Niall sat with a nonjudgmental gaze as he ate his cereal. Milk dribbled down his chin and he’d stuck out his little pink tongue and tried to lap it off of his chin. He’d failed and just looked like a little puppy with big blue eyes. Niall didn’t seem to be doing it on purpose, but his presence and his unassuming nature had calmed Harry enough to get the story out.

They’d sat in silence for a while, piecing the night together in their own minds. Niall got up and put his bowl in the sink, washing out the leftover sugary milk and placing the bowl on the drying rack. When Niall sat back down, Harry wasn’t expecting the reaction he’d gotten.

“So you kissed your ex...,” Niall said slowly.

Harry nodded.

“You kissed your ex who is currently engaged to another man,” he stated. Harry stayed quiet, looking down and fiddling with the Grateful Dead ring on his finger. Louis had gotten it for him for his 17th birthday.

“You kissed your ex who is currently engaged to another man, but you still love him and he kissed you back.”

Harry hadn’t understood why Niall needed to repeat all of this. He chanced a glance up at Niall, expecting a disappointed or patronizing look to be on his face. Instead, he was met with a smirk.

“An ex who seems to still have the hots for you, if I haven’t recently been blinded and spiraled into insanity.”

Harry had snorted and rolled his eyes, but he hadn’t said anything. He was waiting to see where Niall was going with this.

“So here’s what we’re going to do…,” Niall had said, leaning into Harry from his side of the table and whispering like this was some top secret plan. “We’re going to make the bastard admit that he’s still in love with you and you’re going to live happily ever fucking after.”

Harry had sat and stared, stunned into silence. This was not at all what he’d been expecting.

“You’re actually encouraging this?” Harry had asked, completely bewildered.

They’d spent the day just talking about it, the fact that Louis was indeed engaged and whether Harry was actually prepared to come in between that. Harry had never thought he’d be the kind of person that would knowingly break up a relationship, and he really didn’t want to be. But this was Louis. His Louis. He’d spent nights upon nights tossing and turning in bed and thinking about having his Louis back. Maybe if Harry just told himself that they belonged together and that he was just presenting Louis with the option to come back to him and not actually forcing a split, then the gnawing feeling of deceit and unease would leave his gut.

Now, he’s standing in front of Louis’ flat, case of beer in one hand, the other poised to knock and announce his entrance. Zayn had texted him earlier saying that the door was open and to come on in, but Harry’s mother raised him to knock before entering someone’s home. Taking a deep breath, Harry knocks gently and pushes the door open, awkwardly leaning into the house and lugging the beer behind him.

He enters to see Zayn and Liam sitting on the couch, wrapped up in each other and having a conversation. Zayn rolls his eyes, a tinge of annoyance but a mostly fond expression on his face, as Liam furrows his eyebrows and keeps talking. It doesn’t look like Zayn’s buying whatever Liam is telling him, but he’s nodding along like he’s listening.

A loud war cry erupts from the ground and Harry glances down to see Niall throw his controller down on the floor and letting out a defeated sigh. Louis raises his first in the air and whoops again.

“You are shit at this Nialler!” he shouts and lets out a laugh as Niall punches him lightly in the stomach.

Harry clears his throat and all four boys turn to look at him. He waves awkwardly with his free hand and nods to the kitchen area before going to put his stuff down. The talking picks back up in the living room and Harry starts to tug at the box until a beer pops free.

“Hey,” Louis’ voice says behind him. It’s the first thing he’s said to Harry since Harry left him out in the ally. Not even a text or anything to let him know what’s going on in Louis’ head.

Harry turns around and says “Hey” around the lip of his can. The beer is bitter and cheap, but it’s alcohol and it’ll do.

Louis steps forward slowly, as if he’s scared Harry’s going to jump out and attack him. Which isn’t fair. Harry had warned Louis about the kiss in the first place, so it’s not like he’s known for just taking rash action and not alerting the other person of oncoming physical activity.

“You came,” Louis says softly, eyes warm even if his arms are crossed defensively in front of his chest.

“I did. It is a lads night. And you know…we’re lads, yeah? Just laddy lads doing lad things because lads are cool.” Harry winces and tells his mouth to stop moving.

Louis’ lips curl up on the sides like he’s fighting back a smile. “This is true. Very good, Harold.”

Harry takes a long gulp of his piss poor excuse of a beer. They stand in silence for a few moments before Louis sighs and reaches out, pulling Harry towards him. Harry finds himself wrapped up in Louis’ arms, can feel Louis hair brushing his chin, and responds by wrapping his arms around Louis’ back.

“I’m not mad at you or anything,” Louis mumbles into his shirt.

“Good.”

“Can’t happen again, though.”

“Mmhmm,” Harry murmurs into Louis hair. He presses a soft kiss to the crown of his head.

“Harry.”

Harry snorts unattractively and pulls away from Louis. He nods regardless and offers Louis a beer, which Louis declines in favor of going to the fridge and pulling out a pink mixed concoction in a pitcher. Louis pours the drink in a cup and Harry reaches over to steal a sip.

“Put your beer in the fridge so it’ll get cold and come out and play video games with us. We’ll annihilate everyone, you and me. Dream team, remember?”

Harry nods and passes Louis as he grabs his case of beer and puts it in the refrigerator. Their friends at school had called them the Dream Team whenever they paired up for games because they just seemed to be able to read each other’s minds and work together really well. Maybe they still had the psychic connection. Maybe they were still soul mates. Harry decides not to think about it and heads back into the common room.

He finds a spot between Louis and Niall on the floor and plops down, grabbing a lone controller off of the table in front of him.

“H is on my team!” Louis announces, nudging Harry’s shoulder before taking a sip of his drink.

Niall wiggles his eyebrows at Harry, not at all the subtle one, and Harry rolls his eyes at him.

This is their first lads night, but everything just seems to fit. Niall’s loud and constantly laughing at something, Zayn’s quiet and just watching everything happen while interjecting little anecdotes here and there, Liam roughhouses with Louis on the floor when he claims that Louis has cheated him out of his high score, and Louis is as bright as sunshine and positively radiating. Harry can’t keep his eyes off of him.

Harry and Louis do end up winning the most games out of everyone. They’re almost unbeatable until Zayn gives in and him and Liam pair up. It’s like a battle between which pairing can read their partner’s minds and motives the most. It’s amazing how Harry still feels so in tune with how Louis thinks and knows how he’s going to react, where he’s going to take his cart and when he’s going to eject his bananas. The only problem is that Zayn’s always been a master at Mario Kart and even Harry can’t beat him on the best of days. Harry decides to blame the six year gap since the last time he and Louis teamed up for their loss.

“Awe, don’t feel bad Lou!” Liam chirps from the couch. He’s got a shit eating grin on his face and Harry knows he’s not going to be letting this win go anytime soon. “Maybe you’re just getting tired.”

“I’m not tired,” Louis says like a five year old. He even huffs out a breath and if he’d been standing, Harry’s sure he would have stomped his foot.

“Besides, if he was getting tired, I just go behind him and push him along,” Harry says before he can think better of it. Everyone just kind of stops and stares at him for an extended beat of silence before Niall falls onto his side with a loud cackle. Everyone else joins in and Harry can feel his cheeks flooding with heat. “I mean…uh….”

Louis snickers some more and nudges Harrys foot with his own. He doesn’t actually move his cold toes away once their pressed into Harry’s skin, but Harry doesn’t mind the constant contact. They resume playing Mario Kart and Niall eventually convinces Harry to be his partner since “we’re flat mates and besties for the resties and I’m more Irish than that Tomlinson guy,” as Niall puts it.

A few hours pass full of laughter and grand jokes. Louis has scooted closer to Harry throughout the evening, leaning into his shoulder and giggling into the back of his hand at some points. It’s nice feeling Louis’ body pressed against his. He still smells like summer and warm windy days just like he used to, and Harry just wants to stay wrapped up in Louis for the rest of his life. Maybe if Niall’s top secret plan works, that could happen.

“M’ gonna have a smoke,” Zayn says eventually, grabbing his pack from the side table by the couch.

Louis gets up to follow him out onto the balcony and Harry watches as Louis pulls a cigarette out of Zayn’s pack and leans forward for Zayn to light it up. The smoke curls into the air and disappears as Louis exhales his first puff. Niall goes into the kitchen to grab a beer before stepping out onto the terrace and bumming a smoke off Zayn as well.

Harry sighs and runs a hand through his hair. Being around Louis is so intoxicating and he feels like he’s a stupid sixteen year old again instead of a twenty three year old man who before a few months ago was happy to just live his life. Albeit he hadn’t exactly been happy in the romantic section of his life with a stream of one night stands and no one making the cut for boyfriend material, but that had been ok. For a while.

He turns to see Liam still sitting on the couch, knees pulled up to his chest and thick strong fingers picking at the hem of his joggers. He’s studying Harry in silence and Harry turns his body towards him and tries to give a small smile. He knows that Liam isn’t his biggest fan. It’s not like Liam’s mean about it or outwardly standoffish, it’s just that there seems to be this invisible physical barrier he puts up around Harry and Harry’s not sure what to do about that.

Liam takes a swig of his own beer before letting out a long sigh.

“You don’t like me, do you?” Harry finally asks to break the weird staring tension.

Liam sighs again and sets his bottle down on the table beside him. “It’s not like I don’t like you, it’s just that I’m very protective of Louis.”

Harry nods and comes to sit up on the couch next to Liam. He’s always had a bad back and sitting on the floor for so long is starting to make it hurt.

“I get that,” Harry says after a moment. “But I’m not here to like hurt Louis or anything. I honestly just miss being around him and I want to get back to being friends, at the least.”

“At the least,” Liam parrots as he raises an eyebrow. “That’s the problem though isn’t it Harry? You want more than that and I can see that maybe Louis does too on some subconscious level, a level we both know he’s not ready to admit to yet. And then there’s this whole thing with him being engaged. Aiden isn’t a terrible person. He’s really not. He’s made some mistakes, but who hasn’t. He’s maybe not the most romantic or anything but he’s not a terrible person and it was Louis’ choice to say yes to marrying him. You should respect that. You being here and worming your way back in is messing with a promise that Louis has made to someone else.”

Harry looks down as he draws his finger in nonsense shapes over the fabric of his jeans. He takes a deep breath and turns to peer out the window onto the balcony where his three friends stand. Louis has his head back, hand clutching his stomach as he laughs loudly at something Niall has just said. Niall’s leaning over the rail in what appears to be an attempt to grab the bird circling above them, and Zayn is leaning against the rail beside Louis, staring at them like their idiots. It’s a picturesque scene with the fading evening light in the background and the brick wall of the opposite building as the background to three crazy boys having a laugh. Harry just wants a part of this life.

“Ok, so I do want him back,” Harry admits softly. “I do. So much Liam. I know that he’s engaged to someone else, but do you see Aiden here? Do you see him coming to our lads night and enjoying hanging with Louis’ friends? I haven’t been around a long time, but what I’ve seen with Aiden and Louis’ relationship is that there’s something not really right with it and I’m not just saying that because I’m so in love with him that I can’t see straight. I know it’s been six years and we’ve both grown in our own ways and things are different, hell I know things are so, so different than how they used to be, but one thing is always going to be the same. Louis deserves someone that will climb rooftops to shout about how much they love him and to hold his hand and get along with his friends. He deserves someone that’s going to laugh at his jokes and take him out to dinner and cook breakfast for him in bed. I want to be that. I’ve wanted to be that person since I was 16 years old and kissed Louis on the steps of his house the first time. I haven’t stopped wanting that for six fucking years and I’m an idiot for it, but I still love him just as much as the time we went swimming in the creek out behind my house butt ass naked and said ‘I love you’ for the first time. Louis is an all-consuming force of nature and he needs someone burning with love for him.”

Louis lets out another loud cackle and Harry glances over to see his eyes crinkle up around the corners. Louis takes a long drag to finish off his cigarette and Harry watches the smoke curl and flex between his lips and then float into the wind as he exhales. Louis has always been beautiful and while Harry’s always found smoking to be gross, Louis looks captivating with a death stick between his fingers and smoke falling from his lips in the fading light. It’s like a work of art.

“Look Harry, I like you. I really do. I want to like you as a person that could make Louis happy. It’s just that he’s already engaged and I don’t believe it’s right if you go around trying to break that up,” Liam says sternly. His eyes are soft though, so Harry feels that he’s making a little bit of headway.

“But I’m not like _actively_ doing it!” Harry protests. “I’m just hanging out with someone I used to know and like…if something more happens then it happens.”

Liam snorts and shakes his head but doesn’t say anything for a few minutes. They look over to see the boys stubbing out the cigarettes on the ground.

“When Louis’ with you or talks about you, he seems really happy. And I get everything you said. He’s been so closed off for so long and I think it’s because of what happened with you. I just want him to be happy. I’m just worried that when this is all said and done he’s going to be broken again and I don’t want to see that happen.” Liam’s fat eyebrows are pulled together and he looks so serious and overprotective that Harry feels like he should address him as Sir.

“I don’t want to hurt Louis. The ball’s really in his court. I’m just here to hang out with him and be a part of his life again.”

“Mmm, wanting to be friends with an ex who you still have feelings for never works,” Liam points out, grabbing his beer and taking a sip.

Harry just shrugs as the door to the balcony opens and Niall, Louis, and Zayn pile back into the living room. Zayn plops down next to Liam and throws his arm around him, pulling him in. Niall resumes his seat on the floor and Louis settles between Harry’s legs where his knees create a V in a perfect Louis size.

Liam stays quiet but he seems a bit more open when he does say something. He even asks Harry direct questions and maybe that’s what needed to happen. Their talk didn’t solve anything, but Liam got to express his opinions and Harry got to pour his heart out. Maybe it’ll get better. Liam’s eyes are a bit brighter and Zayn seems to notice a change because he keeps looking between them with a questioning look on his face. Harry just shrugs and nudges Zayn’s shoulder before sliding his fingers in Louis’ hair to play with it while they decide on a movie to watch. Louis leans back into the touch and Harry watches as his eyes slip closed and his head tilts back like a kitten begging to be petted.

It doesn’t have to mean anything other than platonic friendship unless Louis wants more, Harry tells himself as he feels Liam’s eyes on his fingers in in Louis hair.

* * *

 

It’s late. Harry’s lying on the couch of Louis’ flat with his eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling. Niall’s snoring on the floor beside him, wrapped up in a soft blue blanket with his cheek cradled in the crook of his elbow. In the dark it looks like he’s let his hair go full brunette.

Tired of laying alone in the dark, Harry gets up from the couch and carefully steps over Niall. He walks into the kitchen and feels a shiver run up his spine as his bare feet hit the linoleum floor. Opening the fridge, he grabs his now empty case of beer and breaks down the box and throws it in with the rubbish. He grabs a glass from the cupboard and pours himself a glass of water from the tap. It’s cool and slides down his dry throat with a gurgling noise.

Harry walks over to the fridge again to find pictures of the three boys plastered all over the surface. There are pictures of the boys smiling and holding up beers in pubs, one of Zayn standing beside one of his paintings at what looks like a gallery opening with a gigantic smile on his face, one of Liam facing away from the camera with a surfboard tucked under his arm and his profile outlined in blue ocean water. There’s one of Louis in a green shirt and elf ears pouring beer from the tap at a pub and handing a pint to a customer. The photos are all little moments of a life that Harry has no memory of, a life he wasn’t a part of. It sends a white-hot flash of pain through his chest thinking about this life he wasn’t asked to join.

He takes a look around the kitchen and notices that there’s a coffee pot over in the corner atop the microwave. Does Louis drink coffee now instead of his daily cup of tea, or do Liam and Zayn drink it while Louis sits and glowers at what he used to call the most disgusting drink in the world? Has Louis tried to cook over the hob and almost burned himself or the entire flat down? Can Louis still only put together a cup of soggy cereal or has someone taught him how to fry up an egg? Does Louis even really live here anymore now that he has someone else he can stay the night with?

Harry decides not to think about his other living options.

There’s a picture on the counter in the far corner of Louis and Aiden. Aiden’s arm is slung around Louis’ shoulders and they’re both smiling at the camera. Louis has a bright smile, pointy little teeth biting into his bottom lip, but Harry notices that there aren’t any crinkles by his eyes. Harry loves the crinkles by his eyes and knows that he’s not inexplicably happy without them scrunching up his face. Harry reaches a finger out and traces Louis’ jawbone in the picture.

“That was at my birthday party last year,” a voice comes from behind him.

Harry spins around on his heel and sees Louis standing at the opposite side of the kitchen, oversized jumper hanging off of his shoulder, and tiny hands peeking out of the sleeves as he rubs at his eyes. He lets out a yawn and runs his hand through his unruly bedhead.

Harry doesn’t know what to say to that so he just shrugs and puts the picture back on the counter. Louis walks over to Harry’s cup of water and takes a swig.

“Do you like coffee now?” Harry blurts out, making sure to keep his voice soft so he doesn’t wake up Niall in the living room.

“No?” Louis says, giving him a look like he might be crazy.

Harry feels his chest loosen a little and maybe he can breathe a bit better now with that bit of information tucked into his brain.

They stand in silence for a few moments, both staring at each other. It’s awkward and the silence drags on and Harry hates it. Hates it so much. They never used to have awkwardness. They’d always found a way to keep the conversation going or lapsed into a comfortable silence. Now, things are so different but everything’s still the same.

Louis still has bright blue eyes that shine in the moonlight peeking through the window, his caramel fringe still falls into his eyes before he shakes it further up onto his forehead, his Doncaster accent still gets deeper whenever he’s talking to Zayn, he still puts a hand to his stomach when he’s speaking loudly or when he’s laughing, and he hasn’t stopped fidgeting with his shirt when he’s uncomfortable.

Like he’s doing now.

Harry walks over to Louis and takes a deep breath. He wants to try to capture the smell of Louis’ skin, fresh from a shower a few hours ago after they’d stopped playing video games and were winding down for the night. He pulls Louis into a hug and relaxes as Louis easily folds into him with his head on Harry’s chest. Louis’ hair smells like apples and Harry smiles into his feathery locks because that’s the same smelling shampoo that Harry always uses too.

“Does he make you happy, Lou?” Harry murmurs into the top of Louis’ hair. It’s not the hardest question to ask that’s floating around in his head, but it’s definitely a question that makes his throat itch and tighten around each letter like he’s going to choke on it.

He feels more than hears Louis sigh against him. He’s quiet for a while and that’s really answer in and of itself.

“He…he does, Harry. I mean, he’s a nice guy and he’s not going to make a horrible husband. He’s got a steady job and he’ll support me and it’ll be great,” Louis says, head turned so he’s staring at the blank wall above their kitchen table.

“Yeah, but does he make you _happy_?” Harry pushes.

“Harry…,” Louis pulls back a little and looks up at him. “He’s exactly what I deserve.”

That doesn’t answer the question and they both know it.

“He’s not.”

Louis pushes Harry away and takes a step back. “He is what I deserve. I don’t deserve sunshine and rainbows and that’s not how the world works, ok? And I won’t have you telling me anything different. I can’t do this with you.”

Niall lets out a loud snore from the living room and they both glance to the doorway to see if they’ve woken anyone. Niall’s breathing seems to even out and the flat falls silent.

“Do what with me?” Harry presses, stepping closer and caging Louis in against the counter with one hand pressing into the white tabletop on either side of him.

“I don’t know. I don’t even know why I invited you over. You and me, we don’t work like this. I can’t have you questioning my life when I already had everything sorted before you showed up again. I was fine. Everything was fine before you came back, and now....” Louis looks down and brings a nail up to bite at it.

It’s a nervous habit he’s had since he was a teenager. Harry remembers watching Louis bite his nails in class during tough assignments before he’d even been on Louis’ radar. Before he’d even bumped into him in the toilets one day with a mumbled exchange of “oops,” “hi,” and an awkward conversation before dashing off to class. Harry’s always been conscious of Louis, had fallen in love with these little quirks of his, all his little things.

Harry grabs his hand and pulls it away from his mouth just like he used to. He even brings Louis’ fingers up to his lips and presses a soft kiss into his knuckles. Just like he used to.

Louis looks up at him, big blue eyes full of regret and anger and something else Harry can’t really put a finger on. He expects to be pushed away again but Louis just pulls his hand away from Harry’s lips and slides his fingers along his jaw and into his curls to scratch at his scalp.

“You being around me again is so confusing, H. I don’t know how to control myself around you. What we had is in the past, yeah? So why does it feel like it’s sneaking up into the present?”

Louis’ fingers draw small circles into Harry’s head and he leans into the touch.

“It’s fate, Lou,” Harry whispers, leaning in further and pressing Louis against the counter more securely. “I’m like a moth to the flame with you. You’ve bewitched me body and soul and I’m never leaving.”

Louis snorts and rolls his eyes but he keeps his fingers moving through Harry’s hair.

“Ok Mr. Darcy,” Louis says fondly, his lips curling up into a smile.

“You know I always wanted our first daughter to be named Darcy, babe,” Harry says, grinning down at his boy. His bright, iridescent boy with a knack for running away.

Louis lets out a shuttering breath that seems to rake itself up his throat and tear through his lips. He suddenly looks so small with his eyebrows pinched together and his bright eyes dimming into a deep stormy ocean. Harry brings his hands from the counter to his hips and squeezes gently and Louis takes a deep breath to gain back the air that’s been kicked from his lungs.

“That was so long ago Harry,” Louis whispers into the night.

The moonlight casts a bluish glow onto his face and his eyelashes throw smudged shadows onto his sharp cheekbones. Harry thinks he’s beautiful.

“You’re beautiful,” Harry says, plain as anything and brutally honest.

Louis looks down, messy caramel hair falling over his eyes and blocking his face. Louis emotions have always been in the light of his eyes and the tilt of his mouth. Without being able to see them, Harry’s not sure if he can still read Louis’ mind.

“It’s been a long time Harry,” Louis says again. “Things have changed, I have changed. We can’t do this again. I’m not….” He trails off and looks back up at Harry. He’s got his lips pressed together and his eyes are hesitant and broken. “I’m not good enough for this anymore. I deserve Aiden and that’s what I’m getting. I can’t hurt you anymore.”

“What are you _talking about_?” Harry asks, his voice breaking and oh so confused.

How could Louis even think about existing with him? It’s always going to be _LouisandHarry_. It’s written in the stars.

He can see that look on Louis’ face. The look he’d gotten when he was 19 and Mark had just destroyed his family and Louis was falling into a depression. The look when Harry tucked him in that terrible night and by the next morning he was gone and Harry woke up to an empty bed for the first time in a year. The look he got when he’d seen Harry and then turned and walked the other way. The look he had the night he ended everything and broke Harry into a thousand pieces. The look that said he was going to run, all wild eyes and twitchy fingers and tense muscles.

Harry sucks in a deep breath and digs his fingers into Louis’ hips hard enough to bruise. He lets his breath out and shuts his eyes, leaning his forehead against Louis’. When he opens his eyes, he meets hurricane blue ones that are wide and frightened and just so Louis that his chest hurts.

“Go run little bear. I’ll find you in the morning,” Harry whispers.

Harry presses his lips firmly to Louis’ forehead and steps back. He squeezes Louis’ hips once more before letting go and walking back to the couch. He watches as Louis walks back into his bedroom and shuts the door and listens to what he thinks might be Louis crying. It’s not his place to go check. Not anymore. All of this is so fucked up and Harry doesn’t even know what to do anymore. He just wants his bright, shining boy back, but right now there are dark rain clouds covering the sun and he wishes he was a gust of wind that could carry the clouds far away.

When Harry wakes in the morning, Louis has snuck out of the flat and has effectively avoided talking about it. It really shouldn’t be a surprise anymore, but Harry still feels his heart plummet.

* * *

 

It’s been a week since he’s heard from Louis. He hasn’t texted about needing a wedding planning appointment set up and he hasn’t texted to just say “hi.” Niall’s getting fed up with Harry’s moping because it isn’t part of the plan. The plan is to woo Louis and to look hot at every appointment and to just be his “cheeky bugger self and he’ll fall right into your big oaf arms.”

That’s not exactly what’s happened.

Niall is out with Barbara, his current squeeze who’s trying to get into modeling, and Harry has the flat to himself. It’s quiet and a little lonesome so Harry puts on the TV and pulls out a bottle of wine. There’s rain splashing against the window by his kitchen table and it’s making the flat a dingy, depressing gray color since Harry’s too lazy to turn on the lights. Maybe he’s just trying to save on the electricity bill, but he really thinks it might be because he wants the ambiance to match his terrible mood. His Louis-less mood.

He’s pouring himself a glass of red when he hears a knock at the door.

Harry sets his glass down and makes sure not to spill any wine as he corks it up and puts it back in the fridge. When he goes to open the door he does not expect to find a sopping wet and shivering Louis with lost grey eyes.

“Lou?” Harry asks, completely confused and pulling the soaking wet boy into the room. “What are you doing here?”

Louis turns to him after Harry’s shut the door, and just shivers and stares. It’s disconcerting watching water stream from Louis onto the floor, so Harry grabs him and pulls him into a hug, not caring that his shirt is getting wet.

“What’s wrong, Lou?” Harry asks, pulling away to peer down at Louis.

“I need to tell you something,” Louis says through clattering teeth.

Harry nods and then reaches down and tugs off Louis’s sopping t-shirt and undoes his jeans and pulls them down. Louis steps out of them as he kicks off his shoes. Right now, he’d normally be making a sex joke or saying something ridiculous but Louis is quiet and just follows Harry’s subtle physical cues. Harry pulls him to the couch and wraps a big afghan blanket around him and practically lays on top of him to try to get him to warm up.

“Why are you so wet? You literally just have to walk from your car to the covered steps and come up to my floor,” Harry questions as he runs his hands through Louis’ fringe to push it out of his eyes.

“Stood outside a while trying to work up the nerve to come up here. Is Niall here?”

“No, just us,” Harry soothes in a slow warm voice, hoping to put Louis at ease.

“Good.”

They sit and listen to the telly adverts for a while and Harry watches Louis stare at the floor as his shaking slowly comes to a stop and his breathing returns to normal. After a few minutes, Harry pulls away and sits up properly and Louis rearranges himself and pulls the blanket around himself tightly to stave off any unwanted cold air.

“Why are you here?” Harry asks softly, concern and wariness written all over his face and embedded in the lift of his voice.

“I need to tell you something. Something I should have explained a lot time ago,” Louis says softly.

He doesn’t go on and they sit in silence for a while. Harry just wants to get this over with, learn the deep dark secret and just pick up the pieces. All of this stopping and starting is starting to take its toll.

 “You…you know that night Mark left?” Louis asked eventually, tugging on his blanket and seeming to try to bury himself further in it.

How could Harry forget? It was the beginning of the end of everything.

* * *

 

_Louis hadn’t been at school or answering Harry’s texts all day. Harry had to stay for tutoring for his maths class and he’d just gotten home in time for dinner so he hadn’t had time to stop by to see if Louis was alright. There was something knowing at his stomach, a tightness making his muscles turn and create a sinking feeling in his gut, and he knew something was wrong. It was like he was tethered to Louis by some emotional bond that he couldn’t explain and he just knew something wasn’t right._

_Harry was sitting on his couch between his mother and Gemma while he stared at his phone and half-heartedly watched the latest episode of X-Factor. He didn’t particularly like the girl that was singing. Her hair was bleached blonde and she sang with a nasal tone and the judges loved her, but Harry thought she was kind of a bitch and wasn’t really that good._

_Gemma nudged him and put her hand over his phone to stop the light from distracting her. He sighed and pushed his phone into his pocket and resigned himself to watching the horrid girl sing her final notes. Maybe Louis would text him before bed. He always texted him goodnight. Always._

_When the final contestant took the stage, the doorbell rang and Harry shot up from the couch and ran to the door. He threw it open and his heart fell to his feet. Standing before him was a teary-eyed boy in flannel pajamas, wiping his nose and biting his lip._

_“I know I’m not allowed to stay over on Tuesdays ‘cause it’s family night, but I just…I needed to see you,” Louis whispered._

_He looked like a startled animal and Harry was scared he’d dart away if he moved too quickly._

_“Yeah sure, come on in Lou,” Harry said softly, ushering him inside._

_Harry’s mom looked over from the couch and whatever she was about to say died on her lips when she took in the two boys walking through the foyer._

_“Oh, Louis, honey, are you alright?” she said, standing up and walking over to him._

_Louis nodded and tried to give her a smile but it was watery and turned into a grimace._

_“I’m sorry for interrupting your family night, Anne,” he’d said._

_“Oh no, honey, it’s alright. How about you let H take you upstairs and I’ll bring you a cuppa just the way you like it,” she said, pulling him into a light hug and pressing a kiss to his hair._

_Louis nodded and tried for another smile. It was a little brighter but his eyes looked sunken in and terribly sad. Gemma watched from the couch, eyebrows drawn together and worry etched into her features. Harry shook his head at her and she stayed seated. They walked upstairs and Harry motioned for Louis to sit down on the chair by his desk. Harry pulled back the covers and prepared the bed. He pulled off his shirt and slid off his jeans before pulling Louis into him and onto the bed._

_Once they were covered, he started to stroke Louis’ hair softy and hum a song under his breath. Louis clutched at his bare chest, nuzzling impossibly closer and Harry was worried to touch him too roughly and break him in half. Louis didn’t do vulnerable and Harry wasn’t sure how to approach him._

_Anne came in with two cups of tea and set them on the side table. Louis didn’t look up and Harry gave her a reassuring smile. She left and shut the door so that they’d have some privacy, knowing Harry would tell her what was wrong in the morning._

_“Lou, Baby, what’s wrong? Why weren’t you in school today?”_

_Harry felt tear drops fall onto his chest and he pulled Louis in tighter to his chest._

_“Zayn got an A on his Chem test, did he tell you? He was so excited. He came to find me at lunch and he told me and I swear he almost did a little dance right there in the hall. He was looking for you but you weren’t there, so I guess he’ll tell you tomorrow. You know how hard he’s been working on that subject. He hates it.”_

_Harry rambled for a few minutes, telling Louis random things that he’d missed at school and then saying he’d make sure to give Louis the missed notes from the class they shared together. Louis nodded and the tears didn’t stop, but his breathing slowed._

_“Lou,” Harry whispered into his skin. They were pressed so close Harry wasn’t sure where Louis began and he ended. His lips traced over Louis’ jaw and then he kissed his cheek._

_“Mark…he left today,” Louis said finally, voice raw with emotion and fresh tears fell from his cheek onto Harry’s chest._

_“Left? As in…like gone on a vacation?”_

_“No…like gone for good. Packed his stuff and left.” Louis sat up quickly and Harry watched his face turn from sorrow to rage. “He left. Just up and left his four biological daughters, the boy he helped raise, and a wife who may not like him sometimes, but loves him always. Have I told you my mom’s pregnant? Yeah, with twins, Harry. He left 7 children and a woman who loves him behind this morning and he’s not coming back and I don’t know what to do.”_

_Louis lost it, then. Started to sob and turned into a pillow to scream. Harry wrapped him back in his arms and Louis started pounding his chest. It didn’t hurt, his fist tiny and ineffectual because Harry wasn’t the one he was angry at. After a moment Louis pulled away and took a deep breath to try to calm down._

_“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. My mom is due in a few months and there are four young girls at my house crying for their deadbeat father and I’m now the man of the house and I’m heading to uni in a few months and I don’t know what to do. I can’t break down in front of them. I can’t. But that’s all I want to do.”_

_Harry nodded and pulled him back down, shushing him. Louis sighed into his chest and cried some more. Harry rubbed soothing circles on his back and let him wear himself out through tears and fits of energetic anger that lead to screaming into plush pillows and even standing up and kicking Harry’s chair over._

_“I’m not even going to be able to have happy memories about the man who raised me because the last things he said to me were so horrible, Harry. So horrible. He hates me and I hate him and I just can’t deal with this. We have finals coming up and I need to start revising but my life is literally falling apart and I just can’t.” Louis wiped his snotty nose with his arm and Harry sighed and reached over to hand him a tissue._

_“What’d he say?” Harry asked when he realized Louis wasn’t going to say anything else._

_Louis just shook his head and looked at Harry like he’d been kicked._

_“Not important,” Louis said._

_When Louis finally calmed down enough to sleep, Harry pulled him tight against his chest and hummed a song under his breath until Louis’ frown lines evened out and the tight set of his shoulders slumped as sleep overtook him. Harry watched him sleep, watched the even breaths make his chest rise and fall, and his nose scrunch a little from something in his dream. He was so beautiful and Harry loved him so. He wished he could take the stress and the burden away from him._

_When Harry woke up, his bed was empty and cold. Since a few weeks in to their relationship, they had been sleeping together in the same bed almost every night. Louis had never left before Harry woke up. Never. Not until now._

* * *

 

Harry shakes his head and puts an arm around Louis’s blanketed fortress.

“Of course I remember that night, Louis. Hard to forget.”

Louis nods and lets out a long-suffering sigh.

“Well, he and my mother had been fighting a lot, as you know. And there was a lot going on that I didn’t tell you. I didn’t really want to burden you with it all because you were 17 and sweet and naïve and wanted to see the best in everyone.” Louis looks up at Harry and his eyes are dark and guarded. “I told my mom I was gay, yeah? Well, I never really intended to tell Mark, except he found out somehow. I think maybe he just kinda suspected and then you were coming around all the time and just put two and two together. And like, he hated that I was gay. Hated it. He never outwardly said anything mean to me…well, not a first. But I could tell something had changed.”

Harry scoots a little closer and is pleased when Louis doesn’t stop him from reaching over and rubbing the back of his neck in a soothing motion.

“Well…the fighting got worse and I stayed up a lot to make sure my sisters wouldn’t hear their arguments or to distract them or whatever. And it was manageable. Well, the day he left he told me to my face that he hated that I was gay and called me a fag and that he was so disappointed in me and told me he raised me better than that.” Louis takes a deep breath and swallows harshly. He’s not looking at Harry anymore, more off to the side where Harry’s hung a picture of a rolling landscape at sunset on the wall. “He told me that I was worthless and that I was dragging you down. That you seemed like a nice boy that I was dirtying and that I should have the decency to let you go and that I didn’t deserve you. Said you still had a chance not to be a poof but I was gone and that I was disgusting. Said I didn’t deserve you or anyone. I wasn’t loveable.”

Louis stops talking and takes a few shuddering breaths, trying to keep himself under control. Harry’s at a loss for words because he’d liked Mark at one point and to hear everything Louis just said, it’s shocking. He’s not sure what Louis needs to hear right now and all Harry wants to do is cuddle him and tell him that he does love him and that he’s going to cut Mark into tiny little slivers and feed him to the sharks.

“Oh, Baby,” Harry says finally, voice rough with his own tears he’s holding back. “That’s not true at all. He’s such a prick and I want to kill him. You are the most wonderful person in the world and you didn’t deserve that. No one deserves that. Your family is amazing and it’s better such a horrible person is out of your life, alright? He’s a terrible man and I’m so sorry he said all those things. It’s not true, though. You are amazing.”

Louis nods and looks up at Harry, eyes shining with tears.

“I still don’t deserve you.”

“Louis Tomlinson,” Harry says, serious and staring right into Louis’ eyes. “You don’t tell me what I deserve. No one tells you what you deserve. You decide that on your own. I’m sorry I said Aiden doesn’t deserve you because that makes me a hypocrite. I want what’s best for you, ok? You are a wonderful person, so kind, and you bring light to everything. You light up my world, Louis. And I don’t want you to ever think less of yourself because some douchebag said something horribly untrue.”

Louis looks down and curls his fingers into the blanket. He doesn’t reply.

“Boobear,” Harry calls softly, tugging Louis’ chin up so they’re making eye contact. “Thank you for telling me. I know it was hard to say that.”

“We were just talking about deserving stuff the other night and I wanted you to see where I’m coming from…and to let you know kind of why I left.”

Harry nods and leans over to kiss Louis’ forehead. He glances over at the clock and while it’s not super late, it’s late enough to head to bed.

“Come on my little Donny Soldier. Let’s go to bed, yeah? We’ll talk more in the morning.”

Harry gets up and holds out a hand for Louis to take. Louis shakes his head.

“I’ll stay out here on the couch, if that’s alright,” Louis says as he sprawls out on the couch and pushes the blanket down to cover his feet.

“You can sleep in my bed, Lou. It’s alright. I promise not to try any funny business.”

Louis just shakes his head again and Harry sighs. He mumbles a quick goodnight and goes to his room. It takes an hour or so before he starts to feel even remotely tired. His mind races with the thought of Mark, the man who once made him and Louis pancakes for a Saturday morning brunch, saying all of those terrible things. It hurts to think about Louis dealing with all of that alone.

Around two in the morning Louis crawls into bed with him. Harry’s not really asleep yet, mind still racing, so he opens his arms without question and Louis crawls into them. They stay like that for a while and Harry watches Louis slowly succumb to sleep as his eyelids become heavy and finally shut. He gently kisses along his forehead and hugs him tightly.

In the morning, Harry wakes to an empty, cold bed and it’s like he’s 17 and heartbroken all over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I really appreciate you guys sticking through this with me!
> 
> Thanks Taylor and Tabby!
> 
>  
> 
> [Check out the playlist for this story!](http://8tracks.com)


	7. Flower Crowns and Curls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Louis and Harry have a complicated past, Louis is getting married to someone that’s not Harry, and the universe has decided to have a laugh and make Harry the wedding planner.

_You’re waiting for someone to put you together,_  
 _You’re waiting for someone to push you away._  
 _There’s always another wound to discover,_  
 _There’s always more you wish he’d say.  
_ -Vertical Horizon

* * *

The venue is gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous. It’s everything that Louis ever pictured when he thought about his wedding.

They’re at Rossett Hall, and it’s absolutely stunning. There’s an outside area around back that has a small lawn and an intricate wrought iron gazebo in the middle where he’ll be standing, and there are so many flowering bushes around. It is absolutely stunning. The area is relatively small and peaceful, away from anything distracting and any major roads so there won’t be any obnoxious noise in the middle of it all.

It’s everything he’s ever wanted.

And Harry found it for him.

The sun is trying to peek through the blanket of clouds and there’s a light breeze keeping the air cooler than it should be for late spring. Louis is snuggled in a jean jacket with a wool collar; a jacket he thinks might have been Harry’s a long, long time ago. Harry’s standing to his right in a long red flannel and black skinny jeans, and Aiden’s to his left with dress pants and a button up shirt. He had to leave work early for this, something he grumbled about the whole drive.

The drive is about two hours but it’s nothing that either of their families can’t do for the big occasion, and this place is gorgeous. The wedding has to happen here.

“We have to have it here,” Louis states, gesturing around him. “It’s perfect.”

Harry looks smug and Aiden shrugs.

“If this is what you want, babe,” Aiden says while casting a few glances around.

He looks tired, puffy bags under his eyes and his quiff not as tall and straight as it normally is. He rolls his head around on his shoulders to stretch his neck, and Louis can hear the pops as his vertebrae realign themselves.

“You alright?” Louis asks softly, turning to Aiden and putting a hand on his shoulder.

Aiden nods and gives him a small smile.

“So we’re getting married here, then? You’re going to be Mr. Grimshaw, and say “I do” to me under that fancy gazebo?” Aiden asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

Louis shakes his head and chuckles softly.

“That’s the plan, innit?”

Harry clears his throat and Louis tries to keep the frown off of his face. By the way Aiden’s eyes narrow and scan over him, he doesn’t do a good job.

“Alright, so here we have the walkway. Louis will walk down the sidewalk, here, and we’ll have chairs set up on either side. And then you’ll be standing up there, Aiden, and we’ll have that quartet we listened to in the last meeting playing something of your choice as you walk down the aisle. Pastor John will do the vows. It’ll be quick and painless, and then you two can walk into the side doors over there while guests head into the banquet hall for food.”

Louis nods and shifts his weight from foot to foot. This place is perfect and all he can think about is the fact that Harry knew exactly where he’d want to get married.

 _I found the perfect place for you Lou xx,_ the text had said. Two days later, they’d driven out to see it and boy was Harry spot on.

They head through the building, tall and built out of old exposed stone like a castle, and up a set of wooden stairs. When they enter the room where Louis would be getting ready, his jaw drops. It’s decorated in beautiful reds and whites with oak wood floors and there’s a giant window that looks out onto the ceremonial space. An ornate mirror adorns one wall and another wall has a four post bed resting against it. The blankets look plush and expensive and there are rose petals scattered along the bed and pillows.

“This is where you’d be getting ready, Louis. It’s also where you can um…” Harry coughs. “Where you can spend your first…night.”

Louis gulps and he feels his cheeks warm. The air feels too tight in his lungs all of a sudden and there’s a swirling feeling of shame deep in his gut.

Which is stupid. He’s a grown man who is engaged. He should not feel shameful when someone mentions his wedding night.

Aiden jumps onto the bed and lays back, making a giant X with his body.

“Mmmm, comfy. Want to come up here with me, baby?”

Louis snorts and shrugs while attempting to ignore the eyes he can feel burning a hole in his skull. He jumps on top of Aiden and accidently elbows him in the stomach.

“Ow, you fucker, get off!” Aiden squeals as he pushes a laughing Louis to the side.

“I’ll just…uh…be outside,” Harry says through a sigh and walks out the door.

Louis tries to ignore the irritated voice in his head (heart) telling him he’s a monster and he doesn’t deserve someone like Harry. The voice tells him that he’s an awful human being and it sounds a bit like Mark.

Aiden leans into Louis and smiles down at him from his resting place on the pillows. They end up smiling at each other for a while and for a moment Louis can remember what it felt like when they first started dating. It was all brash flirting and quick conversations during their lunch breaks from work. He hadn’t fallen as completely or as easily as he had with Harry, but Aiden was good to have around. It was like he was someone that could possibly make Louis happy and clear up all the mess in his head. He was someone that Louis deserved. He wasn’t an angel and he made mistakes and the relationship was messy sometimes, but it was mature and real and Louis doesn’t expect fairytales anymore.

Aiden pokes the side of Louis’ cheek and Louis swats him away.

They stay like that for a while and Louis really isn’t sure how long they keep Harry awkwardly waiting outside. He knows, he _knows_ , that it’s hurting Harry, that it’s hurting both of them, but this is how it’s supposed to be. He’s supposed to end up with Aiden because they met when they were adults and didn’t let childhood fantasies run their lives. They’re practical and this is how it’s supposed to work. It is.

Sometimes Louis thinks about that one episode he’d watched of Sabrina the Teenage Witch when he was younger. His sisters were all crowded around a laptop, streaming it online, and Louis had been on babysitting duty and he’d been bored, so he’d watched as well. Sabrina was with some guy but her best friend and ex, Harvey, still had the hots for her and she was trying to search her heart to figure out what to do. She’d cast some weird spell to see what her heart was like and she’d been surprised to see that her current boyfriend was sat on a pedestal in the hallway while her heart had made a home, complete with big screen tv and lounge area, for Harvey. The weird tour guide guy had explained that she’d built a home for Harvey, while the guy she was dating was always meant to be a temporary thing because Harvey was the one for her.

Louis tries not to think about it often.

He definitely silences all thoughts of Harry being Harvey in this scenario.

Louis is the first to get off the bed, mind racing a million different directions. Aiden follows him back downstairs and they find Harry out in the little garden near the ceremony area. He’s picking flowers and twining them together into what appears to be a crown. Louis might definitely throw up.

* * *

 

_It’s the day after Harry’s 17 th birthday and he’s wearing a flower crown. His curls are springy and catch in the pale sunlight streaming through the cracks in the clouds, and he’s all smiles and huge dimples. Louis is so in love with him he doesn’t know what to do with himself._

_He settles for leaning in and kissing Harry’s purple stained mouth._

_Harry has become obsessed with purple popsicles as of late. His lips are always tinted a dark mauve and taste like grapes. Louis doesn’t mind. Popsicles are also phallic shaped and Harry thinks he’s clever when he stares right at Louis and hollows out his cheeks as he sucks on the flavored ice. Louis really, really doesn’t mind._

_Harry’s also got a new fascination with flower crowns. Louis often mocks him for being a hipster wannabe and Harry always pouts out a pretty purple bottom lip and makes his eyes round and mockingly sad._

_“‘M not a hipster, Lou.”_

_“You are. But you’re my hipster, babe.”_

_The crown is made of white daisies that Harry picked from his mother’s garden. He’d made Louis watch a ton of instructional videos online on how to make the crowns, and then he’d proceeded to use his mother’s flowerbed for his resources. His mother had shaken her head at him and made him promise to leave enough flowers in the bed to keep it looking vibrant._

_Louis sits on the blanket they’ve laid out on the grass, and he watches Harry poke his tongue out of his mouth as he concentrates on his homework. It’s a Thursday and they’re both meant to be revising for tests the following day._

_Instead, Louis says, “I’m going to marry you one day.”_

_Harry glances up at him, broad, easy smile on his lips, and a knowing glint in his eye. Harry’s always been steady in this, always known the depth of his own affections and never been afraid of what all of this means. How young they are, how they can’t go a mere three days without seeing each other lest they go insane._

_“I know,” Harry says, so confident._

_Louis scoffs and rolls his eyes. He glances inside to see Ann at the kitchen window looking out at them with a soft smile on her face. Her hair is pulled back in a half up-do and her eyes crinkle around the edges._

_“And why would you want to marry me, Mr. Tomlinson,” Harry asks after a small beat of silence. Louis turns back to him to see the corners of his lips are turned up and his eyes are now full of teasing mischief._

_“I’d marry you Harry because it rhymes.”_

_Harry rolls onto his back and barks out a laugh. It’s an unapologetically loud sound and so unattractive but utterly endearing. Louis grins down at his boy and Harry takes a deep breath and tries to calm down._

_Louis stands up and holds his hand out for Harry to take so he can stand up as well. Then, he grabs a few flowers from the flowerbed and hands them to Harry. He pulls him over to the door and tells him to count to ten._

_“I’m going to stand over there in the corner by the flowers and you’re going to walk to me,” Louis instructs, rubbing sweaty palms into his jeans._

_Harry smirks. “Am I about to get married to you right now?”_

_Louis just blushes and shushes him._

_Louis gets in position and watches Harry walk towards him. He’s taking measured paces and humming the wedding march quietly with a grin stretching his cheeks so far it looks like it hurts. He’s still got his flower crown on and his curls are framing his face perfectly. He’s a vision and Louis’ mind shuts down about everything that isn’t Harry._

_Harry stops in front of him and giggles._

_“Wait, is it going to be Styles or Tomlinson at the end of all this?” Harry asks through a grin._

_Louis just shrugs and blushes some more._

_“I think I’d like to be Harry Tomlinson, if you don’t mind,” Harry says softly, reaching up and putting a finger under Louis’ chin so they can make eye contact._

_“Yeah?”_

_“Yeah.”_

* * *

 

“What are you making?” Aiden asks as they walk up to him.

Harry turns around and holds up his now completed flower crown. He walks over and sits the crown atop Louis’ head and Aiden laughs beside him in a mocking fashion.

“There is no way you’re wearing a fucking flower crown to the wedding,” he says.

Louis watches Harry bite his lip but he doesn’t say anything.

“And why can’t I?” Louis asks, defensively reaching up to touch his crown.

“Because it’s girly,” Aiden answers into the back of his hand.

“Hey, now, I will wear a flower crown if I want to wear a flower crown,” Louis says sternly. He looks over at Harry and offers him a smile. “I think it’ll look better on you, though.” Louis reaches up and takes the crown off and then stands on his tip-toes so he can put the crown on Harry’s head. He rearranges his curls like he used to and makes sure the flowers are all in view. “There.”

Harry beams at him and Louis watches as his eyes shine happily. Aiden clears his throat and Louis takes a step back.

“What next?” Aiden asks, shifting his weight awkwardly.

“We need to pick the songs for your reception, but you two can do that on your own if you want,” Harry says a moment later, like there isn’t a thick tension clogging up the air.

“Nah, you can come over if you want,” Aiden offers as he turns to walk back to the car. Harry shrugs and looks over at Louis to gage his reaction. Louis just smiles at him and reaches up to fix a stray petal.

“What’s with the flower crown?” he asks softly as they follow Aiden out of the venue.

Harry shrugs and looks down. He’s dragging his feet and there’s a small crease between his eyebrows. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and Louis nudges him.

“I want you to remember.”

He doesn’t have to specific. Louis remembers everything, every touch and kiss and word spoken between them. He remembers the late nights of sneaking into each other’s rooms and the slow, passionate sex with muffled groans into pillows so their mothers wouldn’t wake up. He remembers the way that Harry smiled into their kisses when Louis poked his stomach and the way his curls felt pressed against his chest when they slept.

“I do,” Louis whispers into the space between them. Aiden’s just out of ear shot, or so he hopes, and they walk the rest of the way to their cars in silence.

* * *

 

­Louis just wishes things weren’t so awkward.

If only Harry wasn’t his ex who wanted him back and who Louis definitely maybe still had intense feelings for, and Aiden wasn’t such an oblivious person who was also his fiancé, then maybe things would be better.

As of right now, things kind of suck.

Aiden’s sitting on the floor, feet tucked under his bum, as he scrolls through his iTunes on his laptop. There’s some pop song blasting through the speakers right now, but Louis has never heard of it. Harry’s slumped in the chair beside where he’s currently sitting on the couch. They keep shifting their eyes towards each other, but every time they make eye contact, they look away quickly. What are they, 12?

It’s been an hour or so of constant music as Aiden slowly creates a playlist for the reception. It’s full of old hits from the 90s, current techno pop garbage, some good old classics from the 70s and 80s which actually made Harry’s face light up a little behind his carefully blank mask, and some obligatory line dance songs. It’s going to be generic and something everyone can listen to. It’ll be fine.

Harry takes a sip of the bottle of beer Aiden had offered him when they’d entered the flat. He’s been nursing it for a whole hour now and Louis can see he’s on his last few drops. No more having something to distract himself with then. Louis has a glass of wine in his hand and his knees pulled up to his chest to make himself cozy and tiny against his favorite corner of the couch. He’s even wearing his glasses like a bum because his contacts had been bothering him on the ride home and he needed to take them out ASAP.

Louis refuses to think about why his eyes were stinging. It was most likely the pollen. That’s what caused them to water, as well. Fucking pollen.

Louis sneaks a glance over to Harry to see he’s already watching him. This time Harry doesn’t look away. They stare at each other for an extended beat and Louis watches as Harry’s lips pull up in a devastating smirk. He’s definitely still a charmer.

“Oh, babe! I haven’t heard this song in forever!” Aiden says loudly, breaking the trance Louis seems to be in whenever he allows himself to look at Harry.

Louis peers over his shoulder to the screen and internally groans. Aiden clicks play and the opening lines of _Jessie’s Girl_ start to play. Harry actually cracks up in his seat and downs the last dregs of beer.

“Do you mind if I grab another?” Harry asks as he stands up.

Aiden shakes his head and nods towards the kitchen and Harry disappears around the corner in search for more alcohol. Louis sighs and stretches in his seat, loving the way his spine cracks and his back tendons loosen into a gooey puddle.

 _I’ll play long with this charade_  
That doesn’t seem to be a reason to change  
You know I feel so dirty when they start talking cute  
I wanna tell her that I love her but the point is probably moot.

Louis finishes his wine and stands up as well.

“I’m gonna get another glass. Need something while I’m up?” Louis asks as he walks away from the offending song.

“Nah,” Aiden mumbles, eyes trained on the screen as he searches through his library.

Louis pads into the kitchen and Harry is leaning against the counter with his large hands wrapped around his beer bottle. He hasn’t opened it yet and his eyes are staring intently at the wrapper as his thumb scratches at the corner of the soggy paper. He’ll end up taking the entire label off if he keeps at it long enough.

“Need a bottle opener?” Louis asks as he walks to the fridge.

There’s a half full bottle of wine in the fridge calling his name because alcohol is the only way to deal with Harry. Especially if he’s going to stay in the emotionless state he’s been projecting for the past hour. He’s still got the flower crown in his hair, but the flowers are wilting and turning an unappealing brown.

Harry shakes his head and keeps staring at his bottle. Louis doesn’t like the silence. It itches against his skin and settles into his cracking bones, seeping in the marrow and making him feel hollow.

_I wish that I had Jessie’s Girl!_

Louis snorts and pours himself a half a glass of wine. He probably doesn’t need to be drunk for this. He might say something revealing in front of Aiden.

“You remember that night we both snuck out and went to the pitch and stared at the stars?” Harry asks softly, voice floating through the ether to Louis’ ears.

Louis nods and turns to look at him. Harry’s wearing a frown, but it’s more out of concentration than being upset.

“It was cold and I hugged you close and kissed your face to keep you warm and you said that I was all you were ever going to need.”

Louis looks down at the floor and takes a long sip of his glass of wine.

“I thought you were, when I was 19 and foolish,” Louis finally says after he’s swallowed the bitter aftertaste the wine always leaves in his mouth.

“We were in love, weren’t we? It was real?”

Harry’s voice is so quiet and he still isn’t looking at Louis. Aiden is sitting only a few feet from them on the other side of a wall and Louis’ heart is pounding in his chest.

“It was. We really were in love, Hazza. I loved you so much it burned,” Louis whispers. He knows Harry can hear him.

“I don’t think it ever stopped,” Harry mumbles as he finally glances up at Louis. His eyes are wide and bright and so, so sad. Louis wishes he never walked out that night. Harry doesn’t deserve to be sad.

“Harry…”

“Louis I--”

“Please don’t,” Louis chokes out. “Please, Harry. Don’t say it.”

“But you know, don’t you?”

Louis nods and watches the red liquid swirl around in his glass. It looks like blood and Louis feels like all of his blood is pumping in his ears. Maybe the wine that’s sloshing around in his cup can be all the blood in Louis’ body that loves Harry. Every fiber of it. Maybe he can drink it all back into himself and keep Harry within his soul forever, or maybe he’ll be able to put the glass down and Harry won’t invade every cell of his body anymore. Maybe Harry’s already made himself a room in his heart with snacks and a flat screen TV like Harvey did to Sabrina.

Louis puts his glass down and takes a step away from it like it’s personally offended him. He takes a deep breath, and nope, Harry’s still here swimming in every single one of his thoughts.

“Lou?” Harry’s voice cracks around the word like glass splintering from the force of too much wind.

“I know, darling,” Louis says softly, eyes finding Harry’s. “I know.”

Harry lets out a long gust of air like he’s been holding his breath for this entire conversation.

 _Wonderin’ what she don’t see in me_  
I’ve been funny, I’ve been cool with the lines  
Ain’t that the way love’s supposed to be?

Harry takes exactly three steps and then he’s in front of Louis, pushing him against the counter. It’s all so reminiscent of just a few weeks ago in his own kitchen.

And then he’s being kissed. Sweet and earnest and mind-melting. Louis doesn’t reach for him but he parts his lips and sighs into the kiss as Harry licks his way into his mouth. There’s the gentle slide of lips and the soft shared breathing between them for a moment before Harry pulls back. He places a soft kiss on the tip of Louis’ nose.

“I want, I want Jessie’s girl,” Harry hums to himself as he backs away and walks back into the living room.

Louis stays against the counter and stares at the wall in front of him. Nothing makes sense and everything is swirling around him.

“Pick yourself up, Tomlinson,” he tells himself harshly.

He straightens his shirt and licks over his lips. He thinks he can still taste a few drops of beer on his lips. Another piece of himself that Harry’s left behind.

They spend the rest of the night going through songs and it’s like nothing’s happened. Harry is still mostly silent, sitting in his corner chair and okaying the songs in question. Louis curls up on the couch again and Aiden glances up at him from where he’s sitting against the couch and smiles. Louis feels his stomach trying to revolt against him when he offers a smile back.

It’s all so complicated and Louis’ not sure how to handle it all.

* * *

 

_It’s December 24 th and it’s Louis’ 23rd birthday. He’s sitting in a pub with Zayn and Liam by his side and he’s pleasantly buzzed. There are old rock tunes careening over the loud speakers and he’s wearing an obnoxious Birthday Girl crown atop his head so he’s been getting free drinks all night. Life is good._

_Except when Louis glances over to see a shock of curls on the dance floor and has to do a double take. It’s not him. It’s not him._

_He throws back another free shot and Zayn giggles beside him and whispers about some dude on the other side of the bar that’s been eyeing him up all night._

_Another flash of curly hair that makes Louis’ stomach drop and his heart race._

_“What’s up babe?” Zayn asks, leaning in so that Louis can hear him._

_“Nothing,” Louis answers as he turns back to the bar and asks for another round of shots._

_“I think you’ve had enough Tommo,” Liam says from his other side._

_Louis fixes him with a stare and Liam just holds up his hands in answer. Victory for the birthday boy._

_“We’re doing this the Tommo way,” Louis slurs as he swallows another shot._

_The room is buzzing or maybe it’s him and he sees curls again. This time there’s green eyes and Louis almost falls out of his chair._

_“Zayn,” he whispers harshly._

_Zayn follows his eyes and chokes on his own drink that he’s been nursing all night. Valiant designated driver he is, he promised to only have one drink the entire night. It keeps him from having to turn down offers from guys wanting to buy him a drink as well, so that’s always a plus._

_Zayn clears his throat and Louis watches as Liam reaches over to pat him on the back. Zayn blushes. They still haven’t managed to sort out their feelings or whatever. It’s annoying. Moving on._

_There’s a boy with green eyes and curly hair and he’s got his back to them right now but Louis knows who it is because his body is thrumming with energy and there’s some sort of magnet in his chest trying to pull him off his seat._

_“Don’t,” Zayn warns softly. He’s watching him just as intensely as Louis is._

_Louis makes a choked off sound in the back of his throat and reaches for another shot. Zayn bats his hand away._

_“No more,” he admonishes._

_“But Zayyyyyyyn! It’s my birthday!” Louis whines as a way to distract himself from his mental break down he’s having._

_He’s here._

_Oh God, he’s here._

_Zayn and Liam have a silent conversation and Louis wants to just cry in the corner because it’s his party and he’s here and Louis is allowed to cry if he wants to._

_“Come on Tommo, let’s get to the car,” Liam says softly, and takes his arm to help him off the seat._

_Louis swivels his head around to try to catch those curls one more time, but there are so many people in the pub that he can’t see anything. He realizes that Zayn isn’t beside him anymore and wants to ask, but he knows where he is. He’s with him._

_Liam helps Louis into the car and Louis presses his face against the cold glass of the window. Liam gets in the back with him and rubs his back soothingly. He may not know the reason Louis is spiraling, but he’s probably got an idea. Louis only spirals for one reason, really._

_Zayn comes to the car a few minutes later and drives them home. It’s a quiet car ride and Louis wants to ask. He really does. He just can’t find his voice._

_How is he?_

_Zayn wouldn’t answer even if he did ask. He’d play dumb and Louis would probably hit him in the face and then feel bad and apologize in the morning._

_They tuck his drunken ass into bed and each give him a birthday kiss on the forehead. Louis snuggles deep into his covers and tries to imagine arms around him and the smell of apples in his nose. It doesn’t work, never works._

_The next morning there’s a package on his night stand wrapped in ballooned paper. Louis reaches out tentatively to pick up the card on top._

Lou,  
Happy Birthday, I guess. I don’t even know why I’m writing this, but I was in town and I’d heard a while back you liked to hang out at Greg’s pub. I saw this and thought of you.  
                                                                                                                                                             xxx H

_Louis slides his fingers under the wrapping and pulls the paper away from the small rectangular box._

_He opens it to find a compass._

_It’s made of antique brass and the letters for each direction are barely discernable anymore. It’s a steady weight in his hand, cold metal resting against his palm. He flips it over and sees an inscription._

If ever you find yourself stuck in the middle of the sea, I’ll sail the world to find you.

* * *

 

Louis is sitting in Aiden’s bed, plush comforter covering his bare legs, as he stares unseeingly at the wall in front of him.

“Lou…” Aiden starts but then lets out a long sigh. “Louis, say something.”

Louis looks back at him, blinks a few times and shakes his head to clear it. Aiden’s biting his lip and Louis reaches out to pull his lip from between his teeth so there won’t be teeth marks later.

This can’t be happening.

Louis watches Aiden, watches how his chest rises and falls, how his muscles are tensed, bare and exposed because he hadn’t thought to put a shirt on when rolling out of bed to take the call. He’s got a fading lovebite on his neck from a few nights ago when they’d gone out and partied and Louis had pulled him into the bathroom like a stupid teenager to make out before dropping to his knees. Aiden’s hair is still mussed from sleep, but his eyes are alert and worried.

“Lou-“

“Why do you love me?”

Out of all the words being linked together in almost incoherent sentences inside of his fucked up head, that’s the thing to come out of his mouth? Really? Louis needs to get ahold of himself.

“What?” Aiden asks incredulously. He’s staring at Louis now, wide eyes and a slightly hurt expression on his face.

“Why do you love me?” Louis repeats.

Louis shifts in bed and pulls the comforter up to his bare chest to cover himself, suddenly feeling vulnerable. His muscles are tired and he just wants to go back to sleep, but it’s nearing one in the afternoon, so he really should be getting up as it is.

They’d gotten in late last night after one of Aiden’s business functions. It’d been a black tie affair with champagne and a pianist in the corner. Louis had found it uppity and not something he wished to ever attend again, but Aiden had smiled at all the right people and was ever the charmer. When they got home, Aiden drew them a bath and they’d both sunk into the warm water and let the long evening melt off of their skin. Louis had initiated the first kiss and before he knew it Aiden was spreading him out, marking him up and slipping into him.

Sex with Aiden is actually pretty good. It’s not amazing, but it gets the job done and scratches the itch. It’s not very adventurous and it’s usually in one position: missionary. Louis doesn’t complain and while he wouldn’t mind some spice, the sex isn’t bad.

It’s just lately he’s been picturing green eyes behind his closed eyes and the feeling of soft baby-like skin. He’s been reminiscing about using an authoritative voice and bringing in crackers and juice to the bedroom before they get started and watching those green eyes cloud and feel the body beneath him sink and relax before slowly coming back up and those pretty green eyes watching him so trustingly it hurts.

If those thoughts and memories start to creep in during sex with Aiden, then Louis can’t really help it.

Aiden’s still staring at him like he’s grown an extra head and Louis is still waiting for an answer.

“Well?” Louis prompts, a little hysterically.

“I uh,” Aiden stammers. “I love you because you’re a good person and you make me laugh. And we’re compatible and I think we’d make a good married couple. You’re gorgeous but there’s more than a pretty face. You’re smart and sweet and I just…I love you. I don’t know. I can’t really find a way to describe it. We’ve been together for a while, and marriage seems like the logical next step, and I love you.”

Somehow his confession falls a hell of a lot shorter than Louis was expecting.

Louis sighs. “And you want me to move halfway around the world with you for your job, a job that makes you work long hours and requires even more work to be done at home, and that’s the description you give me of our undying love that can cross oceans?” Louis snarks. He shakes his head and lets his eyes fall to the comforter. It’s soft under his hands and Louis pinches the top part to feel the soft cotton in between the covering.

“Well, I mean we’re about to get married and this is a job of a lifetime. It’ll pay double what I’m making now and we’ll get to start our lives somewhere new,” Aiden reasons.

Louis wishes Aiden would comfort him or something. I mean this isn’t devastating news, great news in the world of business that someone so young got promoted to CEO, but at the same time it’s earth shattering because Louis is being asked to move across the world for someone else’s benefit.

Isn’t that what people in love are supposed to do, though? Move heaven and earth and go however long the distance is to be together? All of this is making his head hurt and he’s only been up for half an hour.

Louis’ phone beeps on the night stand and he sees he’s got a text from Zayn.

_You still coming to help?_

Louis sighs and puts his phone back down on the table.

“Look, I need to process all of this and we’ll discuss it more later,” Louis says as he gets out of bed. He stretches and relishes in the pull of his sore muscles.

“Where are you going?” Aiden questions as he stands up from the bed. At least he put on some pants to answer that damned phone call.

“Zayn needs help with something,” Louis mumbles as he reaches for his discarded clothes and pulls on his dress shirt from last night. It’s wrinkled and smells of expensive cologne and champagne.

“Will you come back over tonight so we can talk?”

“Probably not.”

He quickly dresses in the rest of his clothes from last night and heads out the door.

It feels an awful lot like leaving after a one night stand. Louis kills that thought as he gets in his car.

* * *

 

“Zayn, we need to talk!” Louis shouts as he walks through the door.

He’s assaulted by the smell of something delicious in the kitchen and makes a beeline towards it to investigate. He doesn’t expect to find Harry standing at the stove wearing a frilly pink apron.

“Zayn’s in his room finishing up the painting,” Harry says as he glances up from the pot he’s leaning over. His eyes fall back down to whatever he’s mixing and Louis takes a moment to stare at the defined muscles of his shoulders that the black shirt he’s wearing accentuates.

“Thanks,” he mumbles and walks towards Zayn’s door.

He finds Zayn sitting on his knees on the ground and leaning over a canvas. He’s been working on it in secret for weeks and this is the first time Louis has gotten to see it. It’s a pictures of hands intertwined with a quotes of “Not even the gods above could separate the two of us” underneath the fingers in lovely script. It’s absolutely gorgeous.

Zayn glances up as he cleans off his paintbrush and smiles at Louis.

“You need something?” he asks, voice scratchy from lack of use.

Zayn gets in these moods where he won’t talk to anyone for hours and hours because he gets so focused on a piece. It literally takes the promise of food and pulling him away from his canvases to get him to even acknowledge there are other things happening in the world beside slick paint on his chosen mediums.

Louis watches as Zayn dips his brush in a royal blue and swirls it onto the canvas around the hands. He’s made an ethereal sky scape as the background and Louis wishes he could paint like that. He’s so focused and he’s humming under his breath, something soft and sweet. His eyes are downcast and his face is turned away from Louis, but the way his body is lax and he’s breathing easy, Louis knows he’s happy. He can’t mess that up. Not tonight.

“Um…it can wait. Why is Harry here?” he says instead of just giving out the news that Aiden had graciously shoved at him as a way of waking him up.

“I’m busy doing this and you can’t cook for shit?” Zayn shrugs and tips his paintbrush in white before bringing it to the canvas.

Louis nods and sighs and stares out of the door to the kitchen longingly.

“Be nice to him, yeah? You don’t have to be a twat. He’s always been your friend first, so why can’t you just, you know, get along with him and not make things so damned depressing? It’s a special night and I don’t need you ruining it.” Zayn’s looking up at Louis imploringly and Louis watches as Zayn’s dark eyelashes brush his sharp cheekbones as he blinks up at him. If he holds out for a while longer, he’s sure he can get Zayn to pout.

Instead, Louis shrugs and bites his lip. It’s a defense mechanism to lash out at Harry and be a dick. They all know it. Even Harry knows it, which makes everything so much worse because it makes him feel so vulnerable.

“Yeah, alright. I’ll go see if he needs any help,” Louis says. He pulls out his phone and checks the time. “You’ve got about an hour before Li gets back so finish up and get dressed.”

Zayn hums his assent and goes back to focusing on his artwork. Liam is going to love it.

Louis is walking out the door when he hears Zayn say, “Don’t fuck up my romantic meal!”

He’s laughing as he enters the kitchen and Harry turns to smile at him.

“What are we making, then?” Louis asks, sidling up beside Harry. He bumps his shoulder and peers into the pot. It’s noodles.

“Well I’m working on the spaghetti right now and then I’ve got to put the chicken in the oven,” Harry says as he sprinkles some salt over the boiling water.

“Need help with anything?” Louis asks, breathing in the delicious smells. He notices cupcakes sitting on the counter, yet to be frosted, and walks over to them. He glances over at Harry and wonders if he can pout out his lips and look pitiful enough that Harry will let him have one.

“Don’t you dare touch those,” Harry warns as he pulls the chicken out of the fridge where it had been thawing. Louis huffs out a breath before jumping up on the counter in between the sweet vanilla cupcakes and the boiling noodles. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten how hopeless you are in the kitchen, Lou. You aren’t allowed to touch anything. At all. Nothing.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Hey, I can do a bit of pot and noodle on a good day,” he says in retaliation. Harry just shakes his head.

“So you’ve decided to be nice today, I see,” Harry murmurs as he places the chicken on a cooking sheet.

Louis shrugs and looks down at his shoes. He kicks them off and smiles as they make a loud slapping sound against the linoleum floor.

“I just want us to not be so depressing around each other anymore, you know? The day we went to the beach was awesome. I want to get back to that,” Louis admits as he swings his feet and hits them against the cabinets below him.

“Well it’ll be easier since you aren’t about to fuck your boyfriend on the bed in front of me,” Harry grumbles as he uses his fingers to rub spices into the chicken.

Louis makes an affronted noise in the back of his throat but can’t stop the blush crawling up his cheeks.

“I was not going to fuck him right then and there, and he’s my fiancé, not my boyfriend.”

“Looks like he fucked you pretty good last night if that lovebite on the side of your neck is anything to go by,” Harry shoots back, but he’s got a slight smirk on his face and Louis can tell he’s trying to keep everything light by taking the piss.

Louis reaches up and tries to cover his neck. He hadn’t even realized he had one. His face is definitely flaming now.

Harry bends down to put the chicken in the oven and Louis watches as the end of his shirt rides up on his back. He can see the dimples at the bottom of his spine and Louis’ mouth waters. He used to love kissing him there.

Harry glances up from where he’s bent over and smirks. Louis looks away.

“Go put your smelly shoes by the door or summat. Stinking up my kitchen,” Harry says as he stands up and pulls his shirt down.

“ _Your_ kitchen?” Louis asks incredulously.

“Get out of my kitchen!” Harry says, throwing his head back and making a snooty face like he owns the damned place. Louis rolls his eyes so hard he thinks me might have strained something but gets up and takes his shoes to his room.

He glances down at his clothes and decides taking a quick shower is probably the best option. He ignores the thrumming under his skin he always gets whenever Harry’s in the vicinity, and sheds his clothes and jumps in the hot spray of the shower. If his mind goes to Harry licking icing off of his nipples while he’s having a quick wank in the shower, sue him. He’s had a stressful day so far, and he needs a little stress reliever.

When he walks back into the kitchen, fresh t-shirt and jeans covering his body and wet fringe flopping in his face, Harry is washing his hands and humming to himself. He’s swaying his hips from side to side and he doesn’t seem to have noticed Louis watching him yet. Louis thinks that Harry is made of music, has it running through his bloodstream because he’s always got music playing or he’s humming something.

He walks quietly through the kitchen and Harry jumps when Louis wraps him in side hug. Harry slings his arm around Louis’ waist and places a kiss to the crown of his head, breathing in the smell of his shampoo. He can’t find it in himself to tell Harry off for his affections.

“I’m going to ice the cupcakes now,” Harry murmurs as he pulls away. “Since you’re so good with noodles now, how about you watch them and make sure nothing happens.”

Louis nods and peers over the side of the pot for a few moments before he gets bored. Noodles don’t actually need to be watched. Even he knows this. Instead, he watches as Harry swirls the icing from the icing bag onto the cupcakes with practiced ease. He remembers when Harry used to work at the bakery down the road from his house when they were in school and how at night, when he’d come over after work, he’d smell of sugar and buttery pastries. Louis used to try to kiss the smell right off of his skin.

Zayn comes in a while later, freshly showered and all the paint off of his hands. He smiles as he investigates the food and dips his finger in a freshly frosted cupcake. Harry squawks at him and bats his hand away, but Zayn just grins. Zayn can get away with murder if he juts out his jawbone just right and flashes a crooked grin. Louis reaches over for some icing as well but Harry snags his hand and pushes him away just in time.

“Out, both of you!” Harry whines as he fixes the icing Zayn’s destroyed. “I am literally doing this for you, Malik. Don’t test me,” he warns.

“This is our kitchen,” Louis points out, but moves away from the food anyway.

The door to the flat opens and they can hear Liam putting down his keys in the living room. Zayn goes out to greet him and keep him away from the kitchen.

“This was nice of Zayn,” Harry says quietly as he finishes up the last cupcake.

He swipes his finger on one of the bases to get rid of some of the icing he’s dropped and sucks it off his thumb. Louis stares and Harry smirks around his finger before quickly hollowing out his cheeks, making Louis curse under his breath. Harry laughs softly, a low rumble in his chest, and puts the icing bag down.

Louis clears his throat and has to fight to tear his eyes away from the way Harry’s tongue darts over his lips, chasing the last tastes of sweetness.

“Yeah, he’s been trying to come up with something romantic to do for a while. It’s their year and a half, so you know. Pretty special,” Louis says softly so Liam won’t hear.

He looks over at the kitchen table where there’s fresh flowers sitting in a case and two placemats sitting opposite each other. Harry goes over and lights the candles sitting beside the vase and Louis picks his “Romance Crap” playlist on his iPod and sets it on the speaker dock. Music starts to tinkle through the speakers softly and Harry reaches over to shut off the lights to their dining room kitchen area.

“What’s all this?” Liam asks as he walks into the kitchen, followed closely by Zayn. He eyes Harry for a moment, wary and confused as to why he would be here and Louis wants to smack him because Harry is always allowed to be here, especially when Louis is around, before Zayn nudges him and he turns around.

“Happy year and a half, babe,” Zayn says softly, voice fond and passionate as he leans down to kiss Liam. It’s just a soft press of lips, short and sweet, and Louis turns to see Harry beaming at him.

Liam pulls back with a blinding smile and wraps his arms around Zayn’s waist.

“You remembered,” Liam says, just as soft and fond as Zayn.

Zayn rolls his eyes, but there’s no actual annoyance there. Louis turns back to the stove to check on the noodles and Harry comes up beside him. They watch as Zayn walks Liam to the table and pulls out a chair for him, ever the gentleman. Liam’s looking at Zayn like he hung the moon and Zayn’s looking right back like Liam’s his sun. It’s nauseatingly cute.

Harry pulls the chicken out of the oven and grabs a plate from the counter. It’s one of the nice ones they’d splurged on when they realized they couldn’t entertain guests with paper plates and plastic cups for the rest of their lives. He puts the chicken on one plate and then another while Louis pours the noodles out into a colander. It’s all so domestic, how they flit around each other and work on preparing and plating the dishes. He’s never done this sort of thing with Aiden. It’s always dining out or take out because neither of them cook.

Louis spoons a generous helping of noodles onto each plate while Harry pours the sauce and then they serve Zayn and Liam like professional waiters. Louis even bows and gives them each a wink before they leave the kitchen and let them dine in privacy.

Louis doesn’t want to put on the TV and be loud, so he leads Harry out onto the balcony. The air is warm tonight, with a slight breeze that ruffles Harry’s curls. He’s alone with Harry and staring up at the sky, wishing he could see stars through the thick cloud cover. No such luck.

He wonders if he’ll be able to see stars in Seattle. Probably not. It rains about the same there, he’s heard. Or that’s what the movies portray anyway. Louis sighs and looks down at the chair beside him to see Zayn’s left his pack sitting outside. Terrible idea. The rain will come and ruin all of his new cigs. Louis takes it upon himself to stuff the pack into his pocket.

Harry’s a warm, silent presence beside him. Louis debates telling Harry about the move, about the fact that Aiden’s about to be his husband and that that means he has to go live in America. Louis absolutely does not want to leave England. He’s British through and through.

Harry watches him with careful eyes, as if he can sense there’s a storm brewing in Louis’ mind. He doesn’t ask and Louis doesn’t tell. They just stand there in silence and listen to each other’s breathing. It’s enough to know that Harry’s there, that Harry’s back in his life and a solid presence beside him.

At least until he goes to fucking America.

Harry nudges his shoulder and Louis peers up at him. His eyelashes fan across his cheeks as he looks down for a moment and then Louis is assaulted by emerald colored eyes boring in his. It feels like maybe Harry can read his mind, can look into his soul. It sets his very being on fire and he loves it.

“So, how did Zayn and Liam meet?” Harry asks to break the quiet.

“They met in a class they had. It was some English class before Liam switched his major to business. Li just started coming over with Zayn to work on homework and stuff a lot and then we all became friends. Took them ages to actually get together. We’ve all known each other for like four years or summat, but they only got together a year and half ago. Thought I was going to throw them in a closet and lock the door to get them to deal with their shit,” Louis tells him as he stares down at the walkway under their balcony. He watches a bird jump around on the stones and peck at the ground in search for crumbs.

Harry snorts. “I don’t think throwing them back in the closet would have helped matters.”

Louis just shrugs and he can feel the cigarettes burning a hole in the back of his jeans. He wants one so badly, but he remembers Harry wrinkling his nose to them when he was younger. Instead, he taps his fingers restlessly against the wrought iron of the fencing.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asks him eventually.

“Just a lot on my mind, I guess,” Louis answers, pushing away from the railing and leaning against the wall behind him. He shivers even in the warmth of the night.

The sun is setting behind the old stone buildings around them, and Harry’s outlined in brilliant pinks and oranges from where Louis is looking up at him. He’s got a halo of light around his curls and his eyes are so wide and trusting, like they were when he was sixteen and Louis first called him beautiful.

“You’re beautiful,” Louis whispers into the setting sun.

Harry blushes lightly and takes a step closer to him. He doesn’t bother to push him away.

“This was nice, cooking and hanging out tonight,” Harry says. His voice is pitched low, just for Louis to hear even if no one else is around to interrupt them.

“Yeah, it was Curly,” Louis says, throwing in the pet name to try to add some banter and lighten the mood.

Harry smiles all bashful and sways a little in front of him. Louis reaches out and pets his hip. There’s electricity in the air flowing between them and all Louis can think about is the fact that he’s finally got Harry back in his life and he’s going to have to leave him. He takes a deep breath around the lump growing in his throat and tries to ignore the way that Harry’s eyes search his as if he knows Louis is fighting to not choke on air.

Harry reaches up and touches Louis’ cheek softly, rubs his knuckles against the soft apple of his cheek and over his jawbone.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asks again, soft and sweet and tinged with worry.

Louis just shakes his head and keeps their eyes locked. He suddenly remembers a few weeks ago when Harry confessed without actually confessing that he was still in love with him. The memory makes fire light in Louis’ bloodstream and spread through his body and his head goes a little foggy with the way Harry’s eyes had been so sincere. He desperately wants to hear the words now, hear Harry whisper “I love you,” into the charged space between them, but he’ll never ask. It’s not fair to either of them, what’s going on. If only he was stronger.

The door opens beside them and Zayn peeks his head out. He’s got kiss-bruised lips and a lazy smile on his face. His eyes track the way Harry’s got his hand on Louis’ neck and their bodies tilted towards each other, and his smile turns into a satisfied smirk. Harry drops his hand and takes a step back and Louis wants to reach out for him again.

“We’re going to watch a movie, if you want to come in,” Zayn says before leaving them alone again.

“I should probably leave,” Harry murmurs, running a hand through his hair and looking anywhere but Louis.

Louis shakes his head and chokes out a “please don’t” that has Harry’s eyes finding his again. It’s an unbearable few seconds as Harry considers his options but then he’s smiling a soft little smile and nodding his head.

Liam and Zayn are cuddled up on the giant lazy-boy, Zayn’s canvas laying out on the coffee table and an expensive looking watch sitting on top of it that Liam must have given Zayn as a gift, and The Amazing Spider-Man is starting. Harry plops down on the couch and Louis watches Liam give him a soft smile, which is new and warms Louis’ heart. Louis sits down next to Harry, closer than he should because this is already complicated enough, but Harry wraps an arm around him and Louis leans into it instinctively anyway.

He feels Harry move his hand down and he’s about to make a snide comment about keeping his hands off the goods, when Harry slips his hand into Louis’ back pocket and grabs the carton of cigarettes out of his pocket. Louis smiles up at him as Harry leans forward and tosses them on the table.

Half way through the movie, Louis has his head resting on Harry’s chest, heartbeat loud and steady through the fabric of his shirt, and Harry’s fingers running through his hair. Liam’s mostly sitting on Zayn and they keep sneaking kisses every now and then, which Louis can’t exactly blame them for, and whispering to each other. Everything just fits, the way a giant jigsaw puzzle fits together after the final piece slots into place. It’s warm in the flat and Louis is surrounded by his favorite people. He snuggles further into Harry’s side and Harry drops a kiss into his hair.

It’s like Harry was the missing piece to the puzzle and everything fits. Well, everything in this room fits together. There’s still his life with Aiden and the fact that he’s probably going to have to move thousands of miles and probably never see Harry again. He might not even get to see Zayn and Liam again, or at least not for a long time, and that thought pierces straight through him.

He decides it’s not something he should worry about right now because Gwen and Peter are sharing their first kiss, Liam is giggling quietly to something Zayn is saying into his ear, and Harry’s his ever steady presence at Louis’ side and keeping all the monstrous thoughts away for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry about the wait...again. I've got one more week before I'm back to school and I have recruitment for my sorority that following week so it's going to get crazy. I'm going to try to finish writing this week while I'm still on break, but no promises.
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me!
> 
> Songs:  
> Everything You Want - Vertical Horizon  
> Jessie's Girl - Rick Springfield
> 
> Thanks Taylor and Tabby!
> 
>  
> 
> [Check out the playlist for this story!](http://8tracks.com)


	8. Settle Down With Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Louis and Harry have a complicated past, Louis is getting married to someone that’s not Harry, and the universe has decided to have a laugh and make Harry the wedding planner.

_Pack up and leave everything,_  
 _Don't you see what I can bring_  
 _Can't keep this beating heart at bay_  
 _Set my midnight sorrow free,_  
 _I will give you all of me_  
 _Just leave your lover, leave him for me_  
-Sam Smith

* * *

Harry opens the door to a smiling Louis who holds out a bag of Chinese takeout as an offering for passage into the flat. Louis’ cheeks are flushed from walking up the stairs, but his smile is bright and his eyes are warm.

“Hey, c’mon in,” Harry says, nodding his head in the direction of the living room. “I’ll grab plates and some cups. What do you want to drink?”

“Water’s fine,” Louis says as he trudges past Harry and into the living room.

When Harry’s got all of his supplies and turns the corner he sees that Louis has spread out the food and is standing over it and staring down, possibly even salivating a little bit.

“You haven’t eaten anything today?” Harry jokes as he sets the plates and drinks down on the coffee table in front of his couch.

Louis shakes his head and sits down, rubbing his hands together and eyeing the Lou Mein. “Nah, I had to skip lunch to go to a cake appointment thingy to make sure the cake was how we wanted it,” Louis says with a shrug as he piles food onto his plate.

Harry nods and takes a bite of his egg roll. “Everything good with the cake?” he asks because he’s a damned good wedding planner even if he’s a slightly horrible person.

“Mmhmm,” Louis mumbles around a spoonful of noodles. His eyes crinkle and he hums appreciatively as he takes another bite. “This is delicious! I decided to go to that new Chinese place that just opened around the corner from your flat. I’m so glad I found it.”

Harry laughs around a forkful of rice and gives Louis a closed lip smile and nudges his shoulder. “Thanks for bringing dinner,” he says after he swallows.

They’ve gotten into a bit of a routine, if he’s being honest about the situation. Louis will come over on nights that Aiden is working late, or when Zayn and Liam want some time to themselves, or even just whenever he’s had a tough day at work, and they’ll veg out in front of the telly and eat their weight in take out. It’s great. Louis’ over at his place at least two or three times a week.

They haven’t spent a lot of time in Louis’ flat, and Harry tries not to think about the way Liam looks at him, friendly yet slightly disapproving, and how he doesn’t seem to really fit in with their life yet. He’s getting there. Zayn’s as welcoming as ever and hugs him tight before he leaves like he’s scared he’ll go away and never come back, and he’s got one of his spare console controllers over there for when they all decide to play Fifa when he and Niall come over for Lads Nights.

Niall comes and goes from their shared flat as he pleases and always winks at Harry when he sees Louis curled up on the couch. Niall hasn’t asked what exactly is going on between them, and Harry is thankful because he’s not sure what’s happening either. He’s decided he’s just going to let it all work itself out.

Harry is knocked out of his thoughts by Louis groaning loudly beside him. He’s eaten two take out noodle boxes and has consumed well over half of the ginormous serving of chicken. His small hands are rubbing his stomach and he’s got his eyes closed. Harry really wants to kiss him and feel those hands tracing the side of his jawline.

“I’m so full Haz, I think I’m going to bust,” Louis complains as he maneuvers, trying to stretch out on the couch.

Harry rolls his eyes at him and takes one last bite before putting his fork down.

“Serves you right, eating all of your calories in one sitting, Lou,” he admonishes as he starts to gather all the trash together.

“Not all of us can just eat a banana whenever they want to,” Louis retorts before groaning again.

Harry laughs outright and takes all of the trash and leftovers into the kitchen. He can hear Louis moaning and groaning from the kitchen and shakes his head. Drama queen.

When he walks back into the room, Louis is sprawled out on the floor with papers spread out around him. He’s looking over what appears to be a list of names as Harry sits down next to him.

“What’s this, then?” Harry asks, nodding towards all of the papers.

“I have to figure out the seating arrangements for the wedding,” Louis says through a sigh. “I know this is supposed to be Louis and Harry time, but I really need to get this done and I don’t have a ton of free time to focus on it.”

He looks up at Harry apologetically and Harry does his best to shrug it off. He doesn’t want Louis looking at him with pity in his eyes because they’re talking about the damn wedding. Sometimes he thinks Louis worries about running him off, which is silly. He’s not the runner in this relationship.

“I’ll help.” He reaches to snag the paper from Louis, falling into his side as he does so, but Louis keeps the paper out of his reach.

“No, Haz, it’s fine. I’ll do this while you watch the game or something. You don’t have to do this,” Louis says, eyes focused on Harry’s face and unease etched into the arch of his eyebrows.

Harry huffs out a breath and rolls his eyes. “I’m your wedding planner and I’m going to help you.” Louis shakes his head and tries to push him away with his free hand but Harry just takes a hold of it and kisses his knuckles.

Louis grunts and pulls his hand away.

“This is why you can’t help me with the chart Harry.”

Louis is looking down at the sheets of paper but Harry doesn’t think he’s actually seeing anything.

“Loueh!” He whines, reaching for the paper.

“Harreh!” Louis says back, trying to squirm out of Harry’s reach.

Harry snags the paper and sits back up as Louis falls onto his back. He stays there for an extended beat and Harry hears him let out a heavy sigh. He briefly entertains the thought of crawling on top of Louis and pinning him to the floor before licking slowly into his mouth and kissing him until they’re both winded, but shoves the thought as far into the back of his mind as possible.

“Let’s see,” Harry says to himself as he looks at the seating chart in front of him, “How about we put Jay and Dan over by the head table.” Harry grabs the pencil Louis had laid beside the papers and pencils in their names. “And maybe Aiden’s parents can sit at their table as well? Get some bonding time?”

Louis snorts and shakes his head.

“Aiden’s parents split when he was young so they have to sit on total opposite sides of the venue. Mum doesn’t much care for Aiden’s mum, says she’s too uppity, so they probably shouldn’t sit at the same table,” Louis says as he grabs the pencil and write Aiden’s mum’s name at the table below Jay’s. He then writes in Aiden’s dad’s name at the table furthest away from Aiden’s mum’s table. It’s all pretty ridiculous but Harry’s seen worse.

“Wait, Jay doesn’t like Aiden’s mum? Jay doesn’t like someone? Seriously? Jay’s an angel!” Harry cries in disbelief as he tries to process soft, sweet Jay not liking someone.

“Well, not everyone can be besties with me mum, Harold. I know you have a special relationship with her, but not everyone’s as charming as you,” he says rolling his eyes. “Plus Anne and Mum’s relationship was like…one in a million or something. Not everyone’s parents can be close like they were.”

Another repercussion of Louis running off: their mothers slowly stopped talking with each other. They’d been best friends, always calling each other up to chat about something cute their sons did, endearingly labeling them as “husbands” and spending almost every weekend together. It’s not like they hate each other now, it’s just that when Louis left it got all messed up and everything changed. Harry wishes they could just all rewind back to when everything was running smoothly and they all spent their days basking in the love and company that their combined families created.

Harry sighs and starts to recite the names off the list as Louis bits his cheek and tries to decide where everyone should sit. It’s a long list, even though Louis said he wanted a small wedding, and Harry wants to comment on it but decides it isn’t his place. This is going to take a while.

“How about putting Stan next to this Greg dude,” Harry suggests at one point. “They seem like they’d get along, what with both of them having 4 letter names.”

“Hush Harold, I’m trying to work,” Louis teases, but writes Stan’s name next to Greg’s anyway.

Harry just stretches out and takes a deep breath. Louis reaches up and rakes his fingers through the mess of Harry’s curls and Harry hums appreciatively. Louis’ gentle ministrations are relaxing and Harry shuts his eyes for a while, listening to the scratch of pencil on paper and Louis humming softly as he writes.

Eventually he rolls on his back and watches the way Louis’ eyelashes fan across his sharp cheekbones when he blinks and the way his fringe sweeps across his forehead in a delectable mess. He’s breath-taking.

Harry watches Louis as he scrunches up his nose and bites the end of a pen in concentration. He’s been working on seating arrangements for the past hour and getting more frustrated by the minute. Louis huffs out a breath and glances down at Harry with a soft smile on his lips before he returns to the task at hand. It’s easy, right then, for Harry to let himself believe that they’re planning a seating chart for their own wedding and bickering over who is going to sit where from a list of their own family members. He can let himself daydream about a white picket fence and a dog that they could have within the next year.

He lets himself believe that Louis is going to smile down at him and kiss him softly and murmur that “it’s time for bed love,” but they won’t really sleep. Instead, Louis will spread him out and kiss every inch of him before using his voice to make Harry completely fall apart by telling him to get on his hands and knees. He lets himself think of losing himself in Louis’ soft praises and magical hands, soft kisses and rough thrusts, breathy sighs and sharp fingernails.

It’s like a cold slap in the face when Harry looks to the top of the page to see “Aiden and Louis Grimshaw” at the head table and Harry has to mentally remind himself for the thousandth time that Louis is not his. Never was, really. He’s just the wedding planner that’s been in love with Louis since he was sixteen.

That’s not really true. He’s more than the wedding planner. He’s more than anything Louis can adequately describe. He knows he’s got a hold on Louis, maybe even strong enough to make Louis second guess every choice he’s been making for the past couple of months, but Harry doesn’t dwell it. He’s here to do a job and to become friends with Louis again. If he happens to sweep Louis off his feet and make him leave his fiancé in the process, well, Harry is probably an awful person but at least he’ll get his boy back.

“Hey, Lou, I want to take you somewhere,” Harry says suddenly. The papers are too much for him right now and he glances down to see that Louis is nearly done anyway.

“And where would that be?” Louis asks as he bites his lip to fight off a grin. He’s always up for an adventure, and Harry knows just how to give him one.

“It’s a surprise!” Harry chimes as he stands up and stretches his back. Hard floors are no friends to finicky backs.

Louis shakes his head at Harry but his lips curl up into a smile and he stands up as well. Harry walks into the kitchen and rummages through the drawers to find the keys he’s going to need. He finally finds them pushed to the back under a pile of sticky notes.

“C’mon then,” Harry says as he leads Louis out the door.

It’s a warm night, sun melting over the buildings and painting the sky in hues of gold and purple. They bypass Harry’s car and he watches Louis frown in confusion as they stop at the motorcycle parked at the end of the road.

“No, Harry, you can’t be serious!” Louis crows, eyes bright and hands unconsciously reaching out towards the bike.

Harry just grins and picks up the helmet that’s hooked to the seat and hands it to Louis.

“My friend, Jeff, lives in the flat above mine and he lets me take his baby for a spin every now and then,” Harry says with a shrug, like it isn’t a big deal even though it is because he is definitely the most uncoordinated person ever and will probably die on this very motorcycle one day.

“You sure you know how to handle this thing?” Louis asks with the first sign of uncertainty since seeing the motorcycle.

“Of course,” Harry says, slinging his leg over the seat. He hands the helmet to Louis because he’d rather have his own brains smashed if they crash than Louis’. It takes a moment before Louis takes the proffered helmet, but he does eventually. “Get behind me.”

Louis snorts and mutters something that’s probably about sexual positions but Harry revs the engine and he can’t make out Louis’ mumblings over the sweet purr. Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s stomach and laces his fingers together. Harry reaches down and brushes his fingers over Louis’ and not for the first time marvels at the size difference in their hands.

“Stop that.” Harry can hear the pout in Louis’ voice even if he can’t see his face.

“Tiny Lou,” Harry coos over the sound of the engine and Louis pinches his stomach. Harry just laughs and looks behind them so he can back out of the spot.

When they get out of the lot, Harry quickly maneuvers them so they’re cutting around buildings to some back roads he knows he can let the throttle out on and just fly through the mostly empty streets. When he revs the engine and lets the bike shoot forward, Louis cackles loud and unapologetically in his ear. He screeches and Harry can feel him throw his head back and enjoy the setting sun and rushing wind. It’s exhilarating and Harry loves how the tires race against the asphalt and his mind goes blank, the only thing he can hear is the wind blowing past his ears and Louis’ musical laughter.

They slow down a few miles down the road and Harry turns off onto a dirt path. It gets a bit bumpy and Louis squeezes around Harry tighter so that his breath comes out in even bursts along the nape of Harry’s neck and his fingers dig into his abs.

“Where have you taken us, Harold? Are you kidnapping me and keeping me hostage?” Louis asks as he ungracefully stumbles off of the bike. Harry reaches out and steadies him before he can fall.

“Just this place I found once when I was bored. There’s a stream just down there that I like to sit by.”

Harry leads them further down the path until he can hear the burbling creek and smell the flowers that bring life into the running water. They sit down and Louis slips off his shoes to stick his feet in. Harry feels him shiver next to him and takes it as an invitation to put his arm around him.

They sit in silence for a while, just enjoying the gentle press of bodies and the rustling of nature around them. A squirrel shoots out from under a bush and scampers over to a fallen acorn before disappearing into the brush once more. A butterfly floats past, lazily flapping its delicate wings. The wind rustles the leaves in the trees around them and a fish jumps through the water. It’s all very relaxing.

“Thanks for taking me out here,” Louis says softly.

The sun has finally started to disappear and the coolness of the early evening settles in around them. Crickets start to chirp and a frog hops around just beyond their resting place.

“You were getting stressed and I know you don’t deal well with stress,” Harry says shrugging. “It’s the least I could do.”

Louis hums and leans back to peer up at the sky. The trees are blocking the way but every now and then the leaves will sway and the darkening sky will be visible. It melts from a deep ocean blue to black splotchy ink, and Louis says the sky’s beautiful. Harry thinks that Louis is beautiful.

“So you’re wedding’s in a few weeks,” Harry says softly, afraid of breaking the mood but also terrified of not saying anything at all. His head is so full of swirling emotions and half formed sentences that if he doesn’t say anything, he thinks he might explode.

“Mmhmm.”

“You ready for it?” Harry asks to the trees above him. He can’t find the courage to look at Louis right now.

“I guess,” Louis answers, voice forcibly light. “I mean, it’ll be a big change I guess. What with moving to Seattle and all that.”

Harry freezes and he can feel Louis tense and scoot away from him, like his words physically punched him right back in the chest. Or maybe Harry’s just projecting because it sure as hell feels like he just got slapped in the face.

“Wait, what?” Harry gasps, staring wide eyed at Louis who currently looks like he wishes the ground would swallow him whole.

“Nothing,” he grits out, staring down at the dirt they’ve been sitting on.

“You’re moving to Seattle?” Harry asks, and he knows that Louis can hear the pain in his voice because he watches how he flinches at the words.

“I am,” Louis answers eventually.

Harry can’t fucking breathe.

“When?”

“A few weeks after the wedding. So like a little less than 2 months.”

Louis’ brows are furrowed and his voice is so quiet that Harry has to really listen to hear him.

“How long have you known about this?” Harry pushes, trying to force the words out of his mouth even though his tongue feels swollen and his chest hurts.

“Just a little while. Since…since Liam and Zayn’s anniversary thing and-”

“That was 3 weeks ago, Louis!” he nearly shouts back at him. Louis shrinks even further away from him.

“I know, it’s just that Aiden got this job in Seattle that he really can’t pass up and I didn’t know how to tell you and it just came out.”

Louis looks so tiny right now, Harry realizes. He’s got his knees pulled up to his chest and his face tucked into his knees with just his eyes peering up over his jeans. His fingers are scratching through the dirt at his sides and he’s so hunched over that Harry thinks he could easily pick him up and cradle him to his chest.

“So you’re moving to Seattle and you weren’t even going to tell me?” Harry spits out, anger flaring and harsh memories flooding his mind.

_It’s better this way. I’m leaving. Stop, Harry._

It’s like Louis can read his mind because he says, “This isn’t like last time. I want to stay, Harry, I do. I just got you back and I don’t want to leave, but I have to.”

“You don’t _have_ to do anything, Louis!” Harry snaps. He stands up and starts to pace, keeping his eyes carefully away from Louis as he rants. “You don’t have to leave, you don’t have to marry him, and you didn’t have to leave me in the first place!”

Louis stands up and there’s a storm brewing behind his eyes, Harry can see it when he glances over.

“How fucking dare you, Harry! That’s in the past. I’ve learned from my mistakes and it’s not like I want to leave you! I never actually wanted to leave you in the first place! I just got scared and I ran and I’m sorry!” Louis lets out an achingly devastating sob and heaves as he tries to pull as much air as he can into his lungs and gain control again.

Harry tries to steady his anger, but it’s like he’s on a tightrope and one tilt in either direction will send him over the edge into madness.

“Look, I know you feel badly about leaving and I’m sorry for bringing it back up. But this is just like you, Louis. You run away from the good things because you think you don’t deserve them,” Harry tries to placate while he bites back bitter words and swallows the bile rising in his throat.

“Stop talking like you know me, Harry. You don’t know me. It’s been six years,” Louis bites back but it’s evident to both of them that he’s just grasping at straws.

“And whose fault is that?” Harry snips back. Louis has the decency to look properly chastised, at least. “You can’t just up and leave your friends and your family for some guy who’s an absolute tit! He doesn’t deserve you and he doesn’t love you like you should be loved, and you’re just going to go off and travel half way around the bloody world with someone who isn’t going to treat you right!”

Louis takes a deep breath and when he speaks again his voice is softer. “He’s going to be my husband, Harry. I can’t just have him going off to the States to live while I’m here and also be married to each other. It doesn’t work like that and you know it.”

Harry tries to force more air into his lungs but there’s probably half-digested Chinese chicken and white rice in the way because he’s pretty sure he’s about to puke. Louis is leaving again. He’s leaving him again.

“But…it’s like you said, we just got back to a place where we can be around each other again,” Harry says, trying to convince Louis to stay through the way their eyes meet and the sound of his heavy breaths puffing out into the space between them.

“I know, and it sucks. I want to stay, but I can’t.”

“Did you tell Liam and Zayn yet?” Harry asks because he already knows the answer.

“No.”

“Damn it, Louis!” Harry shouts, throwing his hands up in the air. “How can you not tell them? It’s Zayn! He will fucking follow you to the end of the earth and you haven’t even had the decency to fucking tell him!”

“That’s none of your business Harry! I can tell him whatever I want to, when I want to. You don’t get a say in any of this!” Louis shouts back, fists balled and face red. His eyes glint in the speckles of moonlight falling onto his face through the trees. Harry still thinks he’s beautiful.

“You should tell him,” Harry says lowly, irritation pouring out in every movement of his jaw and flutter of his eyelids as he tries to keep back angry tears, but there’s also a dash of desperation to his voice. If anyone can make Louis stay it’s Zayn. “He deserves to know that you’re running again. And this time he’s not going with you.”

“I’m not running,” Louis retorts indignantly. He crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m not running.”

Harry just rolls his eyes and starts walking back up the path.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

The walk back is silent and Harry feels a pulling in his chest. It feels like there’s a vice around his heart and it’s steadily squeezing harder and harder waiting for his heart to burst. Louis is leaving. Again. It’s no better the second time.

“Am I taking you to yours or Aiden’s?” Harry asks as he straddles the bike. Louis follows and tentatively wraps his arms around Harry like he’s scared Harry might pull away.

“Harry,” Louis says softly, voice raw with emotion.

“Louis,” he answers, voice hard and unforgiving.

“Please,” Louis whispers against the nape of his neck. Harry feels him tremble against his back and he’s not sure whether it’s from all the emotions swirling around or the nighttime chill setting into his bones.

Harry sighs and starts the motorcycle. There’s no laughter this time and the wind rushing past his ears offers no solace from the erratic beating of his heart and the words he bites down before they can leave his lips. There isn’t any laughter as they ride into the dark with only the harsh lights of the city illuminating the way.

They pull up to Harry’s flat and it feels like everything’s changed since they were here mere hours before. Niall’s car isn’t in his usual spot so Harry assumes he’s staying with Barbara for the night. Louis follows him up the stairs and through the house, throwing his jacket and keys to the ground and not bothering to look back. Harry kicks the seating charts and assorted papers on the floor away with too much aggression and he feels Louis staring at him. He strips down to his pants and crawls under the sheets, suddenly too tired to take on the world. There’s so much happening so quickly and Harry’s mind is going into overload.

The bed dips but Harry doesn’t turn around to face him. He just stares at the wall and tries to ignore the heat radiating against his back.

They’ve gotten into this habit where Louis spends the night. There’s never any sex or snogging but there’s cuddling and falling asleep to the sound of each other’s even breathing and steady heartbeats. Maybe a few kisses on the cheek and forehead sneak their way in, but nothing more. Never actually giving in. It’s like it doesn’t count if soft, rose petal lips press into the skin of the chest, the shoulders, the eyelids. As long as neither of them breaks and presses their lips together again, it doesn’t count.

“Hazza,” Louis whispers into the dark. Harry can feel how tense he is beside him and the pain in his voice makes Harry wince.

“Don’t Lou,” he says. He’s not sure what he’s saying don’t to, but he guesses the phrase really fits for everything.

Louis lets out a shaky breath and Harry feels him turn onto his side. Harry turns to finally face him and he watches Louis try to smooth his face into something less painful, but he can’t hide from Harry. He sighs and pulls Louis into his arms and presses his lips to his hair.

“Don’t.”

It’s the last thing said that night but they don’t fall asleep for hours. It’s just tight embraces and kisses where the neck and shoulder meld into one, nuzzles into the baby hairs at the back of their necks, and breathing in the smell of each other’s day old shampoo and sweat. Harry’s not sure he can live through Louis Tomlinson saying goodbye again, but he’s going to have to try.

* * *

 

Tonight’s the night that everything’s going to change. Harry can feel it in his bones, can feel it in the way the night air presses against his black mesh shirt and penetrates his skin, can feel it in the way Louis keeps watching him out of the corner of his eye.

After Louis’ confession, Harry had cried to Niall about it for a few hours and Niall had told him he needed to up his game and push the Get Louis Back plan up a few more notches. Hence the nearly see through black shirt and the tightest jeans Harry owns which look like he’s painted them on they’re so tight. They might actually be jeggings, but Harry can’t remember what the tag actually said. His hair is down and falling in long waves and twisting curls, easy for hands to be run through it.

It’s the night of the bachelor party, the night before the wedding, and Harry’s skin is itching with a need to do something. He’s not exactly sure what it is he needs to do, but he knows it’s probably going to be detrimental to everyone.

They’re sitting in Louis’ flat, music tinkling over the speakers in his stereo, and having a couple drinks before going out. It’s an easy atmosphere, all the boys laughing and playing around with each other, except Harry can’t stop the tingling in his skin and the need to blurt out everything he’s ever felt to the man that’s about to get married.

Louis is making a funny face at Niall and Niall bursts out laughing, beer clutched tight between his fingers and cheeks flushed. Zayn and Liam are cuddling on the couch but laughing quietly at Louis’ antics and Harry can’t hold it in anymore. Everything’s too calm and he knows Zayn and Liam don’t know. They’re too calm to be possessing the knowledge that Louis is about to run again.

“Louis,” Harry says suddenly and all eyes snap to him. He’s been quiet tonight and everyone’s been shooting him looks. Louis’ looks have been more warning than concerned and Harry wants to punch him and kiss him and never let him go. “Have you finished packing for Seattle? You’re moving in a few weeks, right? How did the boys feel when you told them you’re moving to the other side of the world? I’d like to know.”

The laughter dies and everything stills. He watches as Zayn’s jaw drops, he can even here the snick of his bones jarring apart, before Zayn turns to look at Louis with wide, hurt eyes that beg for it not to be true. Liam looks like a confused puppy but there’s definitely a pained expression simmering under the surface of his confusion. Niall, having already known all this, is just looking at Harry like he’s an idiot for bringing this up right now and in this way.

Louis’ face takes the cake.

There’s utter betrayal brewing in his baby blues, and his fists are clenched by his side. He’s staring at Harry, gaze stony and jaw set. But what’s weird is that there also seems to be a small exhalation of relief, like he’s had some gigantic weight lifted from his shoulder, because his shoulders drop slightly. Even if he’s pissed, he also seems grateful and Harry’s not sure what to do with that.

Zayn moves first. He gets up and snatches his cigarettes from the table before storming out onto the terrace. He walks with a purpose and every inch of his inked skin is screaming with anger. His shoulders are ram-rod straight and his biceps are bulging from the way his arms are held at his sides as if he’s telling himself not to punch something. Zayn’s never one to get angry, but he’s proper pissed off and he’s going to deal with it like he always does in these situations. He smokes and broods and mulls over his words to figure out which will cut deepest.

Liam watches him go before he turns to Louis.

“Tommo?” he asks, voice clipped and demeaning, like chastising a child.

Louis just puts his face in his hands for a few moments before standing up and following Zayn out. There’s muted yelling almost immediately and the three of them watch as Zayn and Louis’ arms flail as Louis takes a step back and straightens his shoulders in indignation and Zayn unleashes a stream of words that cause Louis to look down at the ground despite his attempt to make his posture bold. Harry’s chest tightens and he makes a conscious effort not to get up and go stand in front of Louis to protect him from the way Zayn’s backing him against a corner.

Harry vividly remembers the day Zayn got suspended from school. Some kids were picking on him for being Muslim and he had his head down, staring at the desk in front of him, fingernails drawing invisible pictures on the countertop. He looked like he was concentrating on the movements of his hands and not on what the mean boys were saying, which had egged them on even more. When Louis entered the room and Harry glanced up to smile at him, the movement must have caught the bullies’ attentions because they started to throw slurs at the two of them. It wasn’t the bullying about his religion that had set him off, but the fact that someone he loved was being tormented. Zayn calmly stood from his seat and his fist clenched before cutting an upper hook into one of the guys’ jaws. He then launched himself at the other boy, heavy set with fearful eyes as he tried to escape Zayn’s attack, and Zayn let out a low growl and punched the boy square in the nose.

He’d been suspended for three weeks and his father had been furious. Louis and Harry were never picked on again.

Harry knows for a fact that Zayn will never hurt Louis, but watching Louis shrink away from Zayn’s angry words has every fiber in Harry’s body screaming at him to get up and protect what he holds most dear. It’s only Liam’s words that keep him seated.

“They just need to blow off steam, it’ll be fine,” Liam says softly, eyes on Harry. “We’ll get through this.”

Harry’s not sure they will, what with Louis running off across the span of the globe, but he tries to smile at Liam. Liam’s watching Zayn’s movements, tracking the way his arms raise and his body folds over on itself as he yells, but he doesn’t seem worried. Harry settles back into the couch and Niall hands him another beer.

“Way to bring that up, Haz. Great timing,” Niall says pointedly before taking a sip of his beer.

Harry just grunts and takes a swig of his own drink.

“I’m glad you said something,” Liam tells him, staring down at his own bottle and peeling at the label. His thick eyebrows are pulled together and he licks across his lips before speaking again. “Louis wouldn’t have said anything until maybe a week before he left. He doesn’t like to tell us important things like this. It’s like he’s scared to cause too much conflict because he’s scared we’ll just abandon him or something.”

Harry nods because he knows this better than anyone.

“It’s hard for him to trust people,” Liam continues. He looks up and meets Harry’s eyes with a steadiness that Harry thinks he can relate to and he’s glad that Louis has had someone steady in his life while Harry hasn’t been around. “And I think he’s marrying Aiden for all the wrong reasons.”

The statement lies out in the open, flayed and presented for everyone to inspect under a microscope.

“You don’t think he should get married to Aiden?” Harry asks, voice wavering, eyes carefully trained on Liam’s face.

Liam sighs, long and heavy, and runs his hands over his face like he hasn’t slept in years. Niall nudges Harry’s knee like he’s giving support and Harry’d almost forgotten he was there save for the warm pressure of his body next to him and the sharp smell of his cologne mixed with the heady smell of Guinness.

“I don’t,” Liam starts. It takes a second for him to gather his thoughts and Harry waits patiently. “I think he’s settling. I mean, he’s only ever dated Aiden since I’ve known him. Before Aiden, there were countless nameless guys that he dated for maybe a few weeks at a time, as if he was trying to fill a void. Zayn mentioned you to me and told me a little about why Louis is the way he is, so when he started to steadily date Aiden, I thought Aiden could fix that void. And I was convinced he had for a long time. Until…well, until you showed up. And Lou’s whole face lit up like I’ve never seen it and he just seems so whole and complete when you’re around.”

Liam takes a deep breath as he taps his fingers against his jeans. Harry knows more is coming so he stays silent and tries to pull the reins on his racing heart.

“Now I realize that Aiden was just another filler, a piece of a puzzle that doesn’t actually fit to Louis’ piece, but he’s trying so hard to make them fit and we all know it’s not actually going to work. I think you scare him, Harry. Because you are what he wants and what he needs, but he’s scared to have you again. And I think you need him as much as he needs you, but I don’t know how to get him to admit that to himself. It’s his choice at the end of the day.”

Before Harry can say anything back, the glass door is sliding open and Zayn and Louis are walking inside. Zayn sits down next to Liam and gives Harry a look that he can’t decipher.

Louis clears his throat and stands in front of them. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you guys I was leaving. Harry only knows because I accidently let it slip a couple weeks ago and he’s been telling me I need to tell you guys about the move on my own.” He looks down at his nails and shifts his weight awkwardly before looking up at Liam. “I guess I was just scared of how you would react and I didn’t want to hurt you guys.”

“Lou, you have to stop keeping things to yourself. You have to trust us,” Liam says urgently. “You can’t just leave without saying anything!”

“I know,” Louis mumbles. “I just wanted tonight to be fun and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want this night to be overshadowed by the fact that I’m leaving for America in a few weeks. Guess that’s out of the bag, thanks Harold.”

“Harry did nothing wrong,” Zayn snaps before taking a deep breath. He smells strongly of smoke, must have had time to light up before Louis ran out to him, and Harry relishes in the smell and the familiarity of Zayn’s voice. Once Louis’ gone, he’s not sure if Zayn’s going to want to keep hanging out with him. “You should have told us and I’m still pissed you weren’t even going to say anything. Don’t tell me you were because you weren’t.” Zayn says pointedly. “But it is what it is and you’re just going to leave us anyway, so how about we just try to push this aside and make this night fun.”

Louis lets out a breath and nods. He glances over at Harry and he doesn’t look pissed off anymore. There’s something else brewing, but Harry doesn’t even have the energy to guess what it is right now.

“Let’s go get smashed at the The Craic like we planned,” Niall says, the first thing he’s said since the whole fight started. “It’s still the Bachelor party, after all!” He’s watching them all with careful eyes but he’s got a bright smile on his face and his smile is contagious.

“To The Craic!” Harry shouts enthusiastically and pumps a fist into the air.

The other boys nod and agree and the tension slowly dissipates. Liam gets up first and wraps Louis in his arms tightly, squeezing until Louis tells him off for suffocating him. Zayn gives him a hug afterwards and whispers something into his ear before going to grab a jacket from the close. Louis follows him into the hallway and Liam comes up to stand next to Harry as they head out.

“I want you to fight for him,” Liam whispers lowly so no one else can hear.

Well, he’s got 16 hours and a racing heart. Harry just hopes he can do this.

* * *

 

The Craic is a small club a few blocks away from the flat. It’s an easy trek and the beer is relatively cheap and the music is on a constant cycle of dirty grind music and upbeat current hits. The bartender recognizes them when they come through the door and hands them all a drink. It’s probably a bad sign that the bartender knows their drink orders, but Harry’s keen to overlook that detail.

A few hours later and everyone’s significantly intoxicated. Harry bops his head along to the thumping of the bass in the latest pop song as Niall orders another round of shots for the lot of them. Louis and Zayn are talking and giggling to each other and Liam’s smiling dopily at the dance floor, zoned out.

“Another round for the boy that’s about to be hitched!” Niall shouts out above the noise around them. When they first started drinking, the bartender had given them two free rounds of drinks and shots for the occasion. Now, after many rounds, it’s time to pay. Niall’s footing this round apparently.

The vodka burns as it rushes down his throat and it makes Harry’s eyes water. Louis makes a face and Zayn and Liam both cough a bit. Niall takes it like a champ and his face muscles stay perfectly relaxed.

“Wimps, the lot of you,” Niall grumbles as he slams down his shot glass.

 _Drunk in Love_ comes on the speaker, blaring loud and accompanied by a chorus of praises from the dancers before them, and Louis makes a happy noise in the back of his throat. It’s a wonder that Harry can even hear it over all the noise, but he most certainly does. He can feel his dick take interest in the little noise, but Harry tells himself to calm the fuck down. He’s drunk and Louis looks like a Greek god with his fluffy fringe and ice blue eyes, so his dick isn’t listening.

“Did you wanna dance, Lou?” Harry asks, voice coming out huskier than he anticipated but the way Louis responds to his voice, his eyes shooting up to Harry’s face and a slight flush creeping over his sharp cheeks, makes Harry smirk down at him.

Louis only hesitates a moment before he nods. Harry catches Zayn winking at him before they leave the bar and Niall reaches around to smack his ass as he walks away. They’re all terrible, all of them. Except Liam. Ok so maybe Liam’s horrible as well because he’s giving Harry an encouraging and cheeky smile and yeah, he’s pretty awful too.

Louis wraps his cold fingers around Harry’s wrist and pulls him through the mass of bodies, nudging people out of the way until they’re near the center. The heat is sweltering and Harry can already feel sweat collecting at the nape of his neck. Louis turns around and plasters his backside against Harry’s front, and Harry starts to sway.

It’s pretty friendly at first. Harry rests his hands high on Louis’ hips and is careful not to grind up against him too much. There’s a fine line they’re walking here, but Harry doesn’t want to push. As the song goes on, the grinding gets dirtier. Louis pushes back harder, finds a rhythm that has him rubbing against Harry in the most delicious way that Harry instinctively tightens his grip on Louis’ waist and slides his hands down to his thighs. He hears Louis’ breath catch and smirks as he leans down to place a quick kiss to the sweaty skin at the base of Louis neck.

Louis leans his head back and to the side and Harry dips his hips down lower and switches up their tempo slightly so they slow down and it’s all delicious friction and warm limbs. Louis’ still got his neck to the side, offering up shiny tanned skin, and Harry drops soft kisses up and down the column of exposed flesh. Louis makes a contented noise and shifts back to press harder into Harry’s pelvis. The pressure on his dick makes Harry gasp and sink his teeth down into Louis’ shoulder. He quickly stops biting, scared to leave a mark in case things don’t go the way he wants, and starts to kiss up Louis’ neck again with slow open-mouthed kisses.

The DJ must be on a Beyoncé kick because the next song is _Partition_. Louis spins around in the circle of Harry’s arms and grins up at him, body loose and warm from dancing, before sliding a thigh in between Harry’s legs and grinding up.

Harry’s not sure what’s going on, but his dick is definitely on board with this plan.

It’s utterly filthy from then on out. Louis kisses his way up Harry’s throat as Harry reaches around and grips Louis’ bum and pulls their crotches together to start a slow grind that will give them both the friction they’re looking for. When he finds the right movement, Louis lets out a soft sigh into Harry’s collarbone and his fingers dig into Harry’s back. Harry leans down to rest his forehead against Louis’s shoulder and ruts down onto Louis’ thigh and Louis thrusts up. They are literally about to rub one off in the middle of the dance floor, but neither of them seem to be able to stop.

Harry pulls back and looks down at Louis’ lips, thin and chapped but so soft. He wants to kiss him so badly, but there’s been some unspoken rule since the last time they kissed at Aiden’s flat that they weren’t going to properly kiss each other again. Louis’ eyes fall to Harry’s lips and Harry licks them and watches as Louis tracks the movement before mirroring the action.

They’re still swaying, rubbing against each other in a way that makes Harry’s eyes shut and his legs weak. He glances up at Louis and he hopes his eyes are saying everything he wants them to say. He wants to tell him to leave Aiden and be with him instead. He wants to kiss him again. Maybe for the last time.

Louis’ the one that initiates the kiss this time.

He surges up, propping himself up on his tippy toes and Harry tightens his grip so that Louis doesn’t fall from their dancing. He kisses Harry with all of his might. It’s like he’s saying everything he can’t voice out loud through the way his lips part and breath spills from his nose and his sweet tongue slides against the seam of Harry’s lips, begging but hesitant all at once. Harry gives, he always gives, and then they’re proper snogging on the dance floor, grinding and kissing with their hands touching any inch they can reach. It’s angry and apologetic, weeping for the lost moments and the hurt feelings, but elated for this moment in time. Harry’s head spins and he’s so confused, wants to know what all of this means, but is too scared to ask. This kiss, surrounded by sweaty faceless strangers, isn’t the best they’ve ever shared, but it’s meaningful and important.

Louis pulls back first and falls lightly back to his regular standing position. He’s breathing hard and his eyes look scared. Harry can feel Louis muscles tensed under his hands. He reaches out and cups Louis’ cheek, bringing their lips together lightly for just a moment before pulling back again.

“Don’t marry him,” Harry whispers into Louis’ lips, soft and so heartfelt his whole body shakes with it.

“Hazza,” Louis whispers back, digging his fingers into the nape of Harry’s neck.

“Please, Lou. Please don’t leave me again.” His voice breaks around the last word, struggling to push it out.

“Hazza,” Louis whispers again, fingers combing through the springy bits of hair at the nape of Harry’s neck.

“I love you,” Harry tells him firmly, eyes locked together and fingers pressing into Louis’ back to hold him in place.

Louis makes a wounded noise and leans up to reconnect their lips. The kiss isn’t as rough this time, but slow and sweet, a gentle glide of lips and the barest hint of nibbling teeth.

Then, Louis is pulling back and turning away from him and Harry reaches out to grab a hold of him before he can disappear into the crowd. Louis turns back to him and shakes his head before grabbing onto Harry’s hand and leading him out of the crowd. Louis’ fingers are warm now and are a grounding pressure on Harry’s pulse point where his index finger is lightly brushing over the inside of his wrist in a soothing motion as he leads them through the crowd.

They’re heading to the exit, Harry realizes. He glances back to try to catch their friend’s eyes to let them know they’re leaving, and finds Zayn already watching them. He’s got a shit eating grin on his face and gives Harry a thumbs up before saying something to Niall. Niall cackles and mimes sleeping and points to Zayn and Liam. Harry nods and allows Louis to pull him through the exit.

It’s a silent cab ride back to Harry’s flat, but Louis holds his hand the entire time. His fingers trace over the veins of Harry’s hand and he pulls his wrist up to kiss right at the pulse point of Harry’s wrist. Harry wonders if he can feel the way his heart stutters at the soft caresses.

When they stumble into the flat, hands tugging at each other’s clothes and lips sliding against any inch of skin they can find, Harry immediately crowds Louis against the door. When they first met, they were the same height, but now Harry’s a good head taller than Louis and it makes boxing him in against walls much easier.

“Say it again,” Louis gasps against Harry’s collarbone before sucking a small lovebite into the flesh.

Harry’s not sure which phrase he’s talking about. They haven’t said anything since the club.

“Don’t marry him,” Harry chooses, but it must not be the right thing to say because Louis pushes him away and Harry goes easily.

“No,” Louis says sharply, a deep contrast from the way his body is still pliant against the door and his breath is coming in short gasps.

Harry sighs because he doesn’t want to fight but he also needs to clear his head a bit. They really shouldn’t just jump into bed together with everything out in the open.

“Don’t leave me again. Please!” Harry begs softly, eyes wide and lips pouted out slightly.

“No,” Louis says again, just as sharply.

“I love you. Please don’t go. I love you, I love you, I love you,” Harry chants, closing in the space between them again. It must be what Louis is looking for because he meets Harry’s kiss halfway and wraps his arms tightly around Harry’s neck.

“Again,” Louis pleads as he slides his fingers through the fine hairs at Harry’s neck and peppers kisses against his cheek. “Again.”

“I love you, Lou. I love you so much it hurts. Please don’t leave. I love you. I’m in love with you.”

Louis makes a soft noise in response to Harry’s words and it’s not an “I love you too” but Harry thinks it’s the best Louis can do right now. Louis slides his hands under Harry’s shirt and slowly pushes it up and off of him. Harry struggles with the buttons of Louis’ shirt before giving up and just ripping it open, buttons popping off and clattering to the floor.

Louis laughs and shakes his head before jumping up and letting Harry catch him around his thighs and push him against the door. There’s urgency to their kisses now that it’s clear this is going somewhere. An incessant voice in the back of Harry’s mind tells him this is a terrible idea, but the way Louis pulls on his hair and scratches down his back makes the voice shut up almost instantly. Harry, while normally insanely clumsy, manages to travel to the bedroom with a squirming Louis in his arms without falling.

He sets Louis down on the bed and slows the kisses down until they’re tender and soft, just a brush of their lips. It’s tantalizingly slow and the way that their bodies shift together as they move further back onto the bed makes Harry’s skin buzz. His fingers itch to scratch and claw and get under Louis’ skin, feel a need to bury deep within Louis’ bones and hollow them out so he can find a home within them, a place where he can stay forever.

When they pull back to catch their breath, Harry notices the shine of tears in Louis’ eyes. He pulls back more but Louis reaches for him and pulls him back in for another kiss. Harry stops him with a gentle hand on his bare chest, thumb rubbing softly over one of his nipples which causes the body beneath him to shiver.

“Lou, what’s wrong?” Harry asks softly, voice rough and deep the way it always gets when he’s turned on.

Louis just shakes his head and tries to lean in again, but Harry keeps his hand pressed on his chest so he can’t move.

“I…I don’t want to hurt you again,” Louis finally admits, voice raw and wrecked just from the kissing, maybe even from the tears in his eyes. “I’m so scared.”

“I know, Baby,” Harry says to him as he leans even further back. He makes a move to get off of Louis, to give him some space so he can calm down, but Louis reaches up and grabs his hips so he can’t get up.

“Don’t stop. I don’t want you to stop. Please, Harry,” Louis murmurs soothingly. His voice sounds stronger and less emotional now, which Harry takes as a good sign. “I just got a bit overwhelmed. It’s ok now, I promise. Please don’t stop.”

“Lou-”

“Hazza, Baby, please. I want this, please. I’m not scared of _this,_ ’m just…confused about it all. But I know I want this, Harry. Please,” Louis says, almost begging, and surges up to kiss Harry again. This time, Harry lets him.

Harry starts off gentle again, but Louis is done playing around. He reaches up and tweaks one of Harry’s nipples, pulling hard and pinching down enough to make it red before letting go and doing the other. Harry groans and grinds down onto Louis who lets out a breathy sound through closed lips. His eyes are hooded and Harry wants to lick every inch of him. So he does.

He starts with the long, golden column of his throat, following the path of his jugular with his tongue, laves over the dip his collarbone makes in the middle of his chest, sucks on both nipples until Louis is squirming and the nipples are puffy and red, and then licks and bites his way down Louis’ chest. He stops at each rib and bites down, not enough to leave a bruise, but enough to shock a little whine out of Louis with each press of his teeth. He’d forgotten how responsive Louis was to these little caresses, how he’d arch his back up so that Harry wouldn’t have to bend down so far, how his eyes would darken to only the hint of midnight blue around his dilated pupils, how his hands would ball up in the comforter.

Harry reaches down and unbuckles Louis’ jeans and pulls them down in one quick motion before pulling off his own jeans and pants. He presses his lips to the small wet patch that’s forming on the fabric of Louis’ pants, right where he’s starting to leak, and lets Louis thrust his hips up to rub his dick across his face once. Then he pulls back and removes Louis’ pants so they’re both naked and staring at each other.

Louis’ changed a lot in six years. He doesn’t have the pudgy tummy anymore. It’s more defined lines and built chest than the last of his baby fat, and his arms are definitely more muscular. He’s got sprawling tattoos down his arm and Harry’s noticed them but has never really paid close attention to what they are. He’s got so many friends with varying amounts of tattoos that he’s used to seeing ink and not thinking twice about it. One tattoo in particular catches his eye. He reaches out to thumb over it and smiles. It’s a compass.

“You got a compass,” Harry says, smiling dopily down at a panting Louis.

“Uh…yeah,” Louis says after taking a deep breath. “I, uh, really liked the compass you gave me for my birthday.” He notices that Louis has “Home” written where the “North” should be and traces the lettering with his nail. “And uh, home’s important, you know. Don’t get to go back much…” He says and locks his eyes with Harry. “But my heart’s always been home.”

Harry’s breath stutters and he pulls his hand away from the compass like it’s burned him.

Louis ignores his sudden movements in favor of reaching up and tracing the birds he’s got tattooed on his chest. They’ve been shirtless around each other, yes. Like when they were at the beach. But this is different. Now they have time to actually _look_ at each other, no front to put up. Louis spends time running his fingers over each bird and his eyes are so intense Harry can’t bear to look at him straight on.

“H, I hate to break this to you, but one of your birds is smaller than the other. And birds don’t have eyebrows,” Louis tells him eventually, finger sliding over the smaller bird’s wings.

“I know,” Harry says softly, all fond and bashful. “There’s supposed to be a size difference, Tiny Lou.”

It takes approximately two seconds before Louis shoves him off of him and growls out “Twat” before launching himself at the birds and sucking harsh red bruises into the smaller bird. Harry lays on his back helpless but to let Louis pin his arms down and bite at his skin. It’s like there’s a new strength building inside, a fire being set ablaze in the way he scrapes his teeth along Harry’s pecks and licks down his abs.

Then he’s giving the tip of Harry’s dick little licks across the slit and Harry groans loudly and cants his hips up. Louis tsks and pushes his hips back down and Harry stares down to see Louis gazing back up at him. He’s got an evil smirk on his lips before he sinks down, tongue laving over the underside of the head before sucking so hard Harrys pretty sure his brain is being sucked out of his dick. It’s not an unpleasant thing, if he’s honest.

Harry can’t help his hips from trying to push up into the slick heat of Louis’ throat but Louis isn’t having any of that tonight. He pushes his hips down again and pulls off, which makes Harry groan in frustration and cover his eyes.

“H,” Louis says sharply. “You obviously haven’t been made to keep to the rules for a while, so I’ll forgive you. Don’t do it again.”

Harry lets out a loud moan and squeezes his eyes. Louis is using _the voice_ and Harry hasn’t let anyone use that voice on him in six years. Louis’ the only one that’s been able to get any reaction from him when being authoritative.

“Be a good boy,” Louis murmurs kissing up the length of Harry’s cock before sinking back down. Harry keeps still, tries to remind his body that it can’t move without permission, and relishes in the warm buzz that takes over his entire being. He wants to be good.

Louis’ hands reach up to scratch lightly on his chest over the forming bruises on the birds. It hurts a little and Harry relishes in the painful tingles. He hits the back of Louis’ throat and then Louis is swallowing around him and Harry can’t help himself. He moves a bit, not even that much, but he does thrust up a little and Louis immediately pulls off with a dissatisfied look on his face.

“‘M sorry,” Harry whimpers, feeling lost and a little dizzy from the way Louis is looking at him, strong and controlling.

“Hands and knees, H,” Louis instructs firmly before getting up and rummaging through the bedside table. Harry scrambles to comply and he can feel his arms already shaking.

Louis places the mostly full bottle of lube on the bed and a condom beside it before stepping away from the bed. Harry whines because he can’t see him anymore and then lets out a gasp when Louis smacks him on the ass once.

“Don’t move. I’m going to grab a cup of juice and some crackers. I’ll be right back, ok babe?” Louis asks. It’s not really a rhetorical question because he pauses for a split second to see if Harry actually isn’t ok with that, but then he’s leaving the room and Harry can’t stop shaking.

There’s too much going on tonight. First, there was fighting and Harry thought his heart was going to burst, and now his heart is about to burst for a whole other reason and it’s just so much to take in. Harry’s ass burns hot from where Louis has snuck in a smack and he focuses on the fading warmth of the red mark he knows must be there while he waits for Louis to come back.

His head is already a little fuzzy, so it feels like forever until Louis comes back into the room. It’s most likely been a minute tops. He watches Louis set a full cup of apple juice, a pack of crackers, and a banana down on the night stand beside the bed. Harry flushes because he knows that Louis still remembers how to look after him.

“You good, Harry?” Louis asks suddenly, voice soft and warm but tinged around the edges with worry.

Harry didn’t realize he was shaking so badly until Louis puts a firm hand on his back and starts to rub soothing circles. Harry nods but he can’t stop shaking and Louis runs his fingers down his spine lightly.

“Come on, on your back. We’ll be gentle, yeah?”

Harry doesn’t necessarily want gentle, but he knows something’s gotta give. He lies down onto his back once more and blinks lazily up at Louis as his body starts to calm back down. He’s so hard he thinks he’s going to die and he just wants Louis to touch him and to never leave.

“Don’t leave,” Harry croaks out.

“I just went to the kitchen, baby,” Louis coos as he crawls back onto the bed. He carefully puts his hands on Harry’s chest and draws soft circles into his flesh. Gone is the frenzy induced sexual haze leaving behind a soft sweetness in its wake.

“Don’t leave,” Harry repeats, shaking his head.

He can feel himself slipping, can feel the fuzziness taking over his head. He wishes that he wasn’t so easy, didn’t fall under as easily as he does, but Louis knows just the right buttons to push to make it effortless. He knows Louis would never leave him like this, never leave him when he’s under, but there’s still dark thoughts creeping into his mind.

“Harry,” Louis says, pulling his chin so that they’re looking at each other again. “I’m right here. I’m right here.” Louis’ nails dig into Harry’s skin and it helps to keep him grounded. “Up or down, babe?”

Harry pauses for a moment. He hasn’t been down in _so long_ , hasn’t trusted anyone to let himself go like this. He hadn’t even thought about it with Louis, it just happened. He knows that if he says so, Louis will kiss him softly and play with his hair until everything’s normal again, but he’s not sure he wants that. He wants to keep going. He wants to have sex. He wants to have really, really good sex with Louis. He even knows that Louis can bring him up slowly and then suck him off and he won’t need to go under for it. But Harry’s body is screaming for this and he just wants Louis, all of him.

“Down,” Harry decides. “But don’t leave.”

“I’m right here,” Louis echoes again before his expression shifts slightly and he’s back in the game. “Spread ‘em H.”

Louis grabs the bottle and Harry’s breath catches when he hears the snick of the bottle opening. Then there’s cool slick fingers prodding around his hole and Harry releases his breath when Louis pushes one in up to the knuckle. When Louis enters another finger, he starts to scissor and slide them slowly in and out. It only takes a moment before he finds the prostate, and Harry’s world whites out for a moment. His back arches and he lets out a long, low groan that has Louis smirking into his hip where he starts to nibble another lovebite.

Louis works in another finger and relentlessly thrusts his fingers right into the prostate. Harry’s a mewling mess, pliant and head clouded over with _LouisLouisLouis_ and _moremoremore_ which he thinks he might be saying in a chant on repeat. When Louis removes his fingers altogether, Harry whines out and Louis laughs softly before kissing the tip of Harry’s dick, slick and angry red from being hard for so long.

Louis reaches for the condom and all of sudden the dark thoughts are back. They creep in slowly, like ghouls in the night, and leave Harry wheezing. They used condoms the first month when they were younger, but then realized that unless they were going to have a quickie somewhere there couldn’t be a mess, they didn’t need to use them. The fact that Harry can hear foil ripping open only intensifies the fact that they haven’t been around each other for six fucking years. Harry reaches up blindly, blinking back tears, and tries to grab the condom from Louis.

Louis sighs and grabs Harry’s wrist with deft, slender fingers. The fingers are sticky with lube and Harry has to bite down on a groan. There are more important things at hand.

“Lou,” Harry whines softly, shifting underneath him and shaking his head.

“Harry,” Louis says firmly. Harry quiets and lets his hand fall down onto the bed. “We’ve got to babe. I’m sorry.” Harry huffs out and the dark feelings are still there. Louis must see something on his face because he leans down and kisses Harry’s nose and then his cheeks, peppers them with small kisses that make Harry smile and feel warm inside. “It’s not like I want to use it. But we have to. I’m just looking out for us.”

Harry hums contentedly as Louis kisses his lips softly and then he pulls back and rolls the condom on. The dark thoughts ease away and are replaced by happiness and warmth. Louis lines up and slowly thrusts in, makes sure that Harry can feel every inch of it. Harry breathes out slowly and tries to relax. His head clouds and swirls and his body feels like it’s electric. If it wasn’t for Louis’ hands planted on his thighs, fingernails digging in and anchoring him, he’d probably float off into oblivion. It’s been so long since any of this has happened that he definitely feels deeper than he normally would be. He doesn’t mind.

Louis starts with shallow thrusts that stretch and teasingly rub over his prostate before sinking further in really going deep. He pulls Harry’s thighs up to rest on his shoulders and leans forward so that Harry’s folded in half. Harry likes it this way. It’s all deep thrusts, slick skin sliding together, and sloppy wet kisses. Harry reaches down to get a hand on himself, but Louis bats him away and bites his neck in warning.

“Be good,” he says, stern but soft, and everything Harry needs.

Harry nods fervently and thrusts up to meet Louis half way. The jarring impact causes them both to shout and then Louis doubles his efforts and Harry tries to keep up.

“Feels so good, Harry. So good for me.”

Harry hums and groans as Louis finds his prostate again and starts to nail it every single time. His skin is literally on fire and he knows he’s making sounds he’ll probably be embarrassed of in the light of day, but right now he really can’t find any reason to care.

Sweat pools around his collarbones and his hair starts to stick to his forehead in a sweaty mess of curls. Louis isn’t faring much better. His fringe is sticking up in wild arrangements from Harry reaching up and tugging on it. His eyes are glassy, his lips are swollen, and there’s sweat beading up on his upper lip. Harry leans up to lick at his lips and they taste like salt and like Louis. Harry’s so in love.

Louis reaches down and wraps his hand around Harry’s dick, slick with pre-come and achingly hard, and starts to stroke him in time with his trusts. Harry’s head falls back onto the pillow and he nearly screams with how good everything feels. Years had worn away the memories of how good all of this was, but now that Harry’s got it back he knows for sure he’s never going to be able to let this go.

“I’ve got you, baby. Come on, come for me Harry,” Louis chants in his ear, voice strained and rough and oh so delicious.

Harry finds the strength to open his eyes and watch Louis’ face twist up in pleasure and that’s what does it, really. The way Louis looks when he’s right on the edge, all tense muscles and slack jawed. Harry sees stars, his body shakes, and he never ever wants to come down from this high. He rips his eyes back up to watch Louis completely fall apart on top of him. He shouts and squeezes his eyes shut as he shakes through his orgasm. It’s the most beautiful thing Harry’s ever seen.

“I love you,” Harry says breathlessly, tongue thick and slow like he’s drugged. It’s always a side effect of this.

Louis leans down and kisses him sweetly before pulling out and tying off the condom. He helps Harry sit up and adjusts the pillows so he can sit cuddled up next to him eventually. Harry is handed his cup of juice and the crackers to nibble on.

“I’m going to get a flannel. I’ll be right over in the bathroom,” Louis says softly, pointing at the bathroom and making sure Harry can see him as he walks that way.

Louis takes such good care of him.

Louis comes back with a warm cloth and cleans Harry’s stomach and thighs of excess lube and come. He then cleans himself up a bit and throws the flannel on the floor. Harry will deal with the wet spot on the ground tomorrow morning. He’s too tired and sated to do anything about it right now. He manages to eat a couple crackers and finish the cup of juice, but that’s all the physical activity he can muster up.

“Good?” Louis checks in after he cuddles back into bed and pulls the blankets up around them.

“Golden,” Harry whispers. His voice still sounds destroyed but he’s slowly coming back up and his head is less cloudy.

Louis plays with his hair for a while and they sit in silence, lost in their own worlds. Harry wonders what Louis’ thinking about, what goes on in his mind. He checks his face, and he doesn’t look like he’s back to being scared which may be a front since Harry’s not exactly back to normal yet, but he hopes that Louis isn’t going to run again.

“Haven’t done that in forever,” Louis says through a yawn.

Harry grins and shakes his head. “Me neither.”

Louis smiles softly at him, all fond eyes and puffy lips. Harry smiles right back and snuggles into him again. He doesn’t bother to ask Louis not to leave again. He isn’t stupid. There’s still a lot that needs to be worked through and Louis technically has a wedding tomorrow. He just hopes that when he wakes up, Louis will still be there, will have chosen him. They can work through the rest.

“Love you, Lou,” Harry mumbles as he shuts his eyes. He falls asleep before he can hear a reply and falls into a dreamless sleep to the soundtrack of Louis’ even breathing and his steady heartbeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter left!! :) I think. We'll see.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Leave a comment if you want!
> 
> Thanks Tabby and Taylor!
> 
>  
> 
> [Check out the playlist for this story!](http://8tracks.com)


	9. Runaway Bride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Louis and Harry have a complicated past, Louis is getting married to someone that’s not Harry, and the universe has decided to have a laugh and make Harry the wedding planner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! Hope you enjoy it!
> 
> This chapter is currently just edited by me. I'll have other revisions posted later this week, but I think (fingers crossed) that I got most of the mistakes!

_Tell me that you turned down the man_  
 _Who asked for your hand_  
 _‘Cause you’re waiting for me.  
_ _-Ed Sheeran_

* * *

 

Louis wakes up to the sound of Marimba and the soft snuffling of someone deeply asleep beside him. His thighs ache and his head feels like there’s a jackhammer trying to make its way through his cranium, but other than that’s he’s peachy. He reaches over to the bedside table and grabs his phone. He glances down to see three missed calls from Zayn and a multiple texts from various other people

Louis sighs heavily, lets his body relax back into the soft bed, and checks his messages.

_Liam: Are you over at Harrys?_

_Zayn: So is this wedding still on or what_

_Zayn: if it is, get your ass to the venue_

_Niall: is it safe to come home???_

Louis doesn’t feel like answering any of his friends because his mind is still muddled with sleep and it’s too much effort to sort through his emotions. He keeps scrolling through his texts and sees one from his sister Lottie.

_Lottie: So has Harry convinced you to run off into the sunset with him??? ;) xx_

Louis hates his sister. He really does. She’s too intuitive for her own good.

Harry lets out a low groan in his sleep and Louis turns to look at him. His cheeks are rosy and his bottom lip in tucked between his teeth where he’s sucking on it while he sleeps. His hair is an utter tip, curls spilling out over the pillow and falling into his eyes. Louis’ chest aches.

“I love you,” Louis whispers to the sleeping boy, careful not to wake him.

His phone buzzes in his hand and he looks down.

_Aiden: It’s wedding day!! See you in a few hours! Love you!_

Louis tries to swallow the bile back but it’s going to come up anyway. He jumps out of bed and rushes to the bathroom before hurling all the contents in his stomach into the white porcelain sink. Alcohol sucks. It really sucks. He’s never drinking again.

After he’s done dry heaving and worshiping the porcelain gods, he cleans up his face and uses some of Harry’s toothpaste to brush his teeth with his finger. When he steps out of the bathroom, he watches Harry roll over in bed before finding the pillow that Louis slept on and pulling it into his chest, burying his face into the fabric of the pillowcase. Louis smiles softly at him but then he sees his phone sitting on the bed where he left it and Aiden’s message comes back to him.

Louis can’t bear to look at Harry or his phone any longer and wonders into the kitchen area. The flat is relatively clean and well mannered. Harry’s always said he’d be the domestic one in their relationship. _Relationship._ They aren’t even together. Louis is supposed to be getting married in a few hours to man he’s been dating for over a year now. It’s all so twisted and messed up.

Louis remembers how Harry had cried out his _I love you_ last night when he came, threw his head back and gritted his teeth and then let the words float between them. Louis’ chest had tightened and he’d almost let the words slip, had almost admitted to Harry that he was so irrevocably in love with the panting boy beneath him. He just…he couldn’t. Maybe he was too emotionally stunted from years and years of denying himself what he wanted most. Maybe he was just an idiot.

He sets the kettle on the stove and waits for it to warm up. Harry’s got the fancy one that changes color when it heats up instead of making a whistling sound and Louis is suddenly tankful that the sound won’t wake Harry up. He’s not sure how he’s supposed to face him right now.

The tea scorches his throat on the way down, and Louis relishes in the burn. He deserves it.  He’s an awful person. There’s a guy who may not be his soul mate but is a decent man, nonetheless, waiting for him at the altar and the man he will love forever and always sleeping in the bed in the other room. Louis is so fucked.

_You don’t deserve him. You little piece of shit. You are nothing._

Mark’s words ring in Louis’ mind, always in the back of his head on repeat and his stomach curls again. Maybe he’s not done vomiting yet. His fingers shake as he sets the tea down and heads back to the bedroom. Harry’s still out like a rock, cuddling into the pillow and puffing out warm, wet air onto the pillowcase where it’s starting to get a little damp. He’s beautiful and Louis loves him so much.

But what has he done to deserve Harry? Harry, whose always been steady and fully in love with him even when Louis is being an utter twat. How can he just leave Aiden without an explanation? How can he be with Harry when he’s messed up so many times that Harry should just kick him out and tell him never to come back. He’s turned Harry away too many times, has used his feelings for his own benefit, and has been a horrible, selfish person. Their relationship isn’t healthy and he can’t keep hurting him.

Maybe he should leave again, one last betrayal and be done with it.

But then Harry smiles in his sleep and snuggles into the covers and Louis doesn’t know if he has the strength to leave him again. He’s just got him back, all bright smiles and flashing green eyes.

“Lou,” Harry mumbles in his sleep.

Louis’ heart twists painfully. He doesn’t deserve him at all. This cherubic little boy needs to stay far away from the twisted mess that is Louis Tomlinson.

Louis walks around the bed and picks up his phone and texts Zayn a simple _On my way x_ before leaving a sleeping Harry peacefully dreaming and bundle up in covers that smell like them.

* * *

Louis watches himself in the mirror, hair perfectly quaffed and black tux fitting all of his curves in just the right places. He’s standing in the room that Harry first showed him when they came to the venue. The bed is against the far wall, soft sheets and feathered pillows, and all Louis can think about is that he won’t be sleeping with Harry tonight, but with Aiden, and that thought makes him fell a bit ill.

The only thing that’s playing through his mind is the way that Harry said _I love you_ last night. The way his voice broke through the words and his whole being celebrated the phrase. He’d been so responsive in bed, groaning and absolutely gagging for it. He’d held Louis tight through the whole thing and Louis shaped the words _I love you, too_ into his collarbone and down his ribs with his lips pressing against tender skin. He hopes Harry understood everything he wanted to say but couldn’t.

It’s like there is a strangers staring Louis down from the other side of the mirror. The stranger’s eyes are tired and sad and he’s got bags under his eyes. It doesn’t look like the stranger is about to go off and get married at all.

Zayn walks in, knocking once at the door to announce his presence, and comes to stand behind Louis.

“Lou,” Zayn says lowly, watching the stranger in the mirror like he doesn’t recognize him either.

“Don’t, Zayn. Please, just don’t,” Louis says, voice tired and full of tears. “I don’t know what I’m doing but I can’t go back to him. I left him lying there in a bed with our fucking spunk still on the sheets from last night, and he probably hates me. He has every right to hate me. I have to do this. I deserve to do this.”

Zayn shakes his head quickly and tugs on Louis’ shoulders until they’re facing each other.

“Don’t you ever fucking say that you deserve this. You _do not_ deserve to be unhappy, Louis. I know you think you’re doing the right thing but you’re bloody not.” It’s the first time that Zayn’s said how opposed to this wedding he is. It is literally an hour before the wedding. Great timing, that. “If you go through with this, I’m not running after you this time. I’m staying here with Liam and Harry. I will always love you Lou, but I can’t sit here and watch you be unhappy at your own doing. Or watch you waste your life away being a sodding idiot.”

Louis looks down at the floor, not able to look Zayn in the eye. There’s a scratch in the wooden slat that his right foot is standing on. He wonders how it got there. It’s easier to focus on mundane details than the screaming of his heart and the words coming from Zayn’s mouth.

“Louis, for fucks sake. Don’t do it. I know you don’t think you deserve Harry, but you do. He loves you so much and I know you love him. Just do yourself a favor and let yourself believe this can work between you guys!” Zayn pleads. He runs a hand through his hair and messes it up. Louis feels bad for their hairdresser because she’s going to have to fix it.

Louis can suddenly hear the quartet start to play softly outside as guests take their seats.

“There are so many people here, Zayn. I can’t have made them come all this way for nothing. I can’t be a failure, Zayn. I don’t want my mom to be disappointed in me,” Louis reasons, fiddling with the button of his jacket and watching Zayn shake his head again.

“Fuck them, Louis. Fuck them. You don’t owe them anything. You owe it to yourself to be happy. Stop finding excuses, and just be with Harry!”

Louis shakes his head back at Zayn and glances at the stranger in the mirror. He looks as sad and lost as Louis feels.

There’s another knock on the door and Louis looks up to see his mother, all soft curves and loving smile, standing at the doorway.

“Can I have a minute, Zayn?” his mother asks before stepping into the room.

Zayn nods and gives Louis one last look before leaving. When the door clicks shut behind him, Louis lets out a breath he hadn’t even known he’d been holding. It’s like his mother’s presence has soothed him without her even laying a hand on him. She walks slowly around the room, eyeing the furniture and the painting on the wall. She brushes her fingers over the soft bed sheets and then glances at Louis. He’s got her eyes, but Louis knows that her eyes aren’t nearly as swollen and sad as his right now.

“Well, Louis, it looks like you’ve gotten yourself into quite a mess,” she starts.

Louis wants to ask her how she knows all of these things, how she knows that Louis’s heart is playing tug of war. Well, that’s not true. His heart is really just screaming at his head to get back to Harry’s warm bed, but his brain is too stubborn to listen.

“I remember when you first brought Harry home,” he says softly, a distant look in her eyes. “He was so nervous, that boy could barely stand still. But then I saw how he looked at you and I knew. I just knew. And I hoped that it would work out and you two would be together because Louis, baby, not everyone gets to be with someone that looks at them like that.”

Louis nods because he knows. _He knows_.

“And then Mark left, and I know he said some terrible things to you. I wish I could take it back, but you can’t let a cruel man’s words affect you the rest of your life, darling. I was so angry with you for just up and leaving our family. Especially after Mark. I was angry at you on Harry’s behalf, too. Oh you should have seen his face when he came over the day after you left and asked if you’d really gone. I was so, so angry. But I forgave you because you are my little boy and I will always be on your side. It took a while, but I know why you left. I know you’re scared, baby. I know.”

She walks over to Louis and cups his cheeks. Louis leans into her touch and lets himself believe he’s seven years old and being comforted by his mother’s soft touches and that they’re still home and she’ll make him a cup of tea afterwards to help him feel better. Her soft thumbs glide of his cheeks and he wants to cry.

“I also know that you still love Harry. I know it because that kind of love just doesn’t fade away. I knew the second you looked at him when you brought him home that he was _it._ There isn’t anyone else better for you than Harry.” Louis just stares at her because his lips aren’t working and his mind is racing. “I know you’re scared of commitment, baby, because of me and Mark, but you shouldn’t be. I never looked at Mark like you look at Harry. I know you don’t want to mess up, but I think you’ll only mess up if you leave him behind,” she says, staring Louis dead in the eye and petting his cheek softly, the way only a mother can. “If you want to marry Aiden, if that’s really what you want, then I’ll support you. I just want you to be happy, Louis. That’s all I want. I’m just saying…I must prefer Anne to What’s Her Face.”

Louis lets out a surprised, hysterical laugh at that and reaches around to hug his mother close. She smells like cool Doncaster nights and warm cups of tea at midnight.

When she leaves, Louis stands at the window and looks down at the crowd below. Half the seats are filled now, and there are more people waiting to be ushered in. The music is beautiful and floats up to him from where the violin strings hum in protest to their bows. It’s his dream wedding scene. It’s everything Louis wished his wedding would look like, except there’s one thing missing.

He knows what he as to do but his brain is still telling him that Aiden is the safer option. Sure, Harry’s always been steady, but he knows he has to work for it more. Aiden’s easy because he’s not perfect. Louis doesn’t feel like he has to constantly impress him and keep Aiden’s attention. Maybe that’s what’s wrong with this whole situation. He doesn’t love Aiden like he should. If he did, he’d be bending over backwards and screaming obnoxiously loud, stupidly romantic words to him just to keep Aiden’s eyes on him at all times.

When Harry looks at him, Louis feels warm and fuzzy, like he’s personally responsible for hanging the rainbows in the sky. He wants to always have Harry’s eyes crinkling and lips twisting into grins, face almost splitting open with fondness. Aiden makes him smile, but Louis doesn’t feel sparklers under his skin or fire in his stomach. His mum’s words ring in his ears: _He was it._

Then the last twenty four hours rush back and Louis feels like he’s going to puke all over again. He’s been so horrible to Harry. He hasn’t treated Harry like he should have and he regrets every second he didn’t tell Harry that he loved him. Maybe he’s lost Harry forever, especially after he left him lying in bed alone. Louis isn’t sure what to do with himself, but he can’t stand looking at a stranger in the mirror any longer.

There are more people gathered in the space below and the quartet’s gentle notes are somehow grating into his head and causing a headache. Without giving his feet permission, he’s moving.

* * *

Louis passes Niall in the hallway. He has murder in his eye and stops in front of Louis, blocking his path.

“If you weren’t about to get married and I wouldn’t get fired from my own business for punching a client in the face, I’d do it,” Niall says, voice hard and steely.

“How can you get fired from a company you own?” Louis muses, but takes a step back from Niall’s rage.  He didn’t know the Irishman could look so murderous. “Is Harry here?”

“How dare you,” Niall growls out. Louis notices his fists are balled and his face is starting to turn red. Any other time, Louis might think he looks like an angry blonde chipmunk, but right now he’s got other things he has to pay attention to.

“Niall. Seriously. Is Harry here?”

Niall shakes his head and takes a deep breath to try to calm down. “No, I’m taking over for him like I told him I should do from the very beginning.”

Louis nod and skips around him so that he can keep walking down the hallway. “Thanks!” he calls out behind him as he listens to Niall mutter Irish curses under his breath.

* * *

 

There’s a lot going through his mind when he knocks on Aiden’s door. He expects to find Aiden standing in front of his own mirror, admiring his suit or fidgeting with his hair, and looking excited. What he finds is Aiden sitting on a chair beside his mirror with his head in his hands.

“Aiden?” Louis asks.

Aiden’s head shoots up and his eyes are wary and sad. Maybe just as sad as Louis’.

“Louis!” he says with fake enthusiasm. “What are you doing here? I’m not supposed to see you before the wedding starts!”

Louis shakes his head and comes to sit in one of the beautifully embroidered chairs beside Aiden’s identical one. “What’s wrong?” he asks, placing a hand on Aiden’s shoulder.

Aiden shrugs off his hand and Louis frowns at him.

“I’m just a bit nervous I guess.” It’s a lie but Louis lets it slide.

“Why?” Louis asks incredulously. “Why would you have to feel nervous? You’re the one that proposed in the first place!”

Aiden stands up and starts to pace.

“Do you love me?” Aiden asks finally, slowing to stop in front of Louis.

Louis fish mouths for a second and finally shuts his lips with a sigh.

“What happened to us, Louis?” Aiden sits down again and turns to Louis properly. “I thought when I asked you to marry me that you loved me.”

“I did….I do. I did.”

“Then what happened?” Aiden asks imploringly. His eyes search his face as Louis sits there silently because he really doesn’t have a nice and neat answer for that question. “Are you in love with him, then?”

Louis starts and shrinks away from Aiden defensively.

“What?”

“Are you in love with Harry?” Aiden asks, staring right at him.

“Yes,” Louis says without giving himself permission to. Aiden looks like he’s been slapped, but he doesn’t look all that surprised either. Admitting it makes Louis feel lighter and he has to force down his bubbling excitement at the fact that he finally admitted it out loud where someone could hear him. Aiden stands up from his chair looking red in the face and ready to scream. “It’s not what you think though,” Louis adds, standing up as well. “We’ve actually known each other since we were teenagers and we used to date.”

Aiden nods and mulls over that information for a few minutes. Louis rubs his sweaty hands over his pants legs and tries to calm himself down. This is not how he thought today would go.

“Why don’t you love me anymore? Did you ever love me?” Aiden asks after a while.

“I did love you, Aiden,” Louis says, grabbing his hands in his own. “I did. I just…I’ve always been so in love with Harry. Even when I left him when we were younger, I don’t think I ever really stopped. But I did love you. You’re a good man, Aiden. Yes, we didn’t always work and there were some major kinks in our relationship, but it wasn’t a bad relationship. I think we could have worked, it’s just.” Louis swallows harshly and tries to sort through his words. He wishes he could just stop talking and not break Aiden’s heart like he knows he’s about to do. He wishes things weren’t as complicated, where different somehow. “I will always be in love with Harry and I can’t stop.” Another irrational burst of happiness from admitting the words out loud. “I tried. I really tried. I didn’t want to still be in love with him after all this time. I wanted us to work, but I realize now that we can’t. Truth be told, I never was yours.”

Louis watches Aiden run a hand through his quiff and then bury his face in his hands.

“I’m so sorry for hurting you, but I don’t think we can get married when we’re not even in love like we should be.”

Aiden’s got tears in his eyes but he doesn’t look very surprised by Louis’ declaration. Maybe he caught on a while ago that Louis’ heart wasn’t in it.

“I know I wasn’t always the best boyfriend to you, Louis. I know that. I do love you though, and I haven’t stopped loving you, if that’s what you’re assuming here.”

“You don’t love me anymore either, Aiden.”

Aiden stares at him for a long time. Louis can hear the music still, fainter because they’re on the opposite side of the building, but it’s still as annoying as before. He wishes the damned wedding music would stop.

“But I do,” Aiden states, simple and unemotional.

“No, you don’t. If you loved me the way you should have for this to work, you would have tried harder to keep my attention, spent time with me.” Their relationship was nice, but Louis knows that both of them should have tried harder. It was lacking in so many areas. Now that Louis thinks about it, everything’s so clear. They never would have worked. “I mean, I know I could have tried harder, but you should have too.”

“I did spend time with you!” Aiden protest, anger seeping into his tone. “Don’t tell me I didn’t!”

“But you didn’t! Me coming over to watch telly by myself while you worked in the back room or taking me to events to show off your wonderful fiancé is not spending quality time together!”

“You should have said something!” Aiden grits out, throwing his hands up in the air in an exasperated motion.

“Well you should have noticed on your own! You obviously aren’t shocked by the information about Harry. If you noticed that, how could you not have tried harder to keep me?”

It’s a fair question. Aiden clearly had sensed something going on and hadn’t lifted a finger to stop it.

“I don’t know,” Aiden says through a strangled groan of frustration. “You shouldn’t have just flounced off with an ex when you were already in a relationship!”

“Yes, I admit that was wrong. I do,” Louis says while he attempts to rein in his anger. It’s no use shouting about it. They were both in the wrong, and Louis knows cheating is a mistake, no matter how he feels about Harry. “And I’m sorry for betraying you like that, but still, Aiden, we both should have tried harder.”

Aiden spins around and punches his fist into the wall. Louis takes a step back.

“I still love you,” Aiden whispers into the dented plaster.

“Yeah, but it’s not enough. We both deserve to not settle.”

It’s so clear now, the way Louis was about to settle. He thinks he always knew he was choosing the lesser option, but it’s so glaringly obvious now. Aiden just huffs out a breath and walks to the other end of the room, putting as much space between them as possible.

“Aiden,” Louis says softly.

“Just go,” Aiden says around a lump in his throat. “Go.”

Louis stands to leave and hesitates only for a moment to see if Aiden will look at him. He doesn’t. It’s like a huge weight has been lifted form his shoulders after finally telling Aiden that he’s still in love with Harry. He feels like he can breathe for the first time in ages. All he needs now is Harry.

Zayn’s waiting in the hallway with Louis’ keys in his hands. Louis’ not sure how Zayn knew where he’d be or that he’d need the keys, but he’s glad they seem to be on the same psychic wavelength. Louis is swept up in a tight hug and Zayn kisses his cheek before letting him go. Liam comes running down the hallway.

“Finally got Niall to tell me he’s at his mum’s,” Liam says, out of breath and clinging to Louis in a tight hug. “Go get him, Lou.”

Louis nods and runs down the stairs. He might still be running, but this time he’s running towards his heart instead of away from it.

* * *

 

_Anne opens the door and there’s a warm, welcoming smile on her face. Her hair is tied up in a loose bun and her hands are covered in flour._

_“Hello Louis,” she says happily. “I’m making some biscuits for later if you want any. Harry’s up in his room.”_

_She shuts the door behind them as Louis enters the house. It’s a lovely home, full of light and love and warmth. Louis envies the way that Harry’s family seamlessly fits together. He wishes his home wasn’t so broken. Mark’s been gone for a month now and Louis can’t go to sleep at night because he hears his mother crying down the hall and his sisters come into his room for cuddles because they can’t sleep without their father’s goodnight kisses. It’s all fucked up._

_Louis gives her a soft smile – he hopes it looks genuine – and goes up the stairs to Harry’s room. He passes Gemma’s room on the way and leans in to wave at her. She throws a paper ball at him which he ducks away from just in time._

_“Why have you been leaving my brother to eat lunch by himself this week?” Gemma asks, a slight frown on her face._

_Louis looks down at the tan carpet beneath his feet. He doesn’t have an answer. The truth is that he’s been pushing everyone away, not just Harry, and he can’t find it in himself to warm up to anyone now. It’s like Mark took away his comfort, kind heart, and free spirit when he left. Louis shrugs and tells her that he’s been busy but that he’ll try to make up for it._

_“You better,” she warns good naturedly before turning back to her work._

_When Louis enters Harry’s room, he sees him hunched over his small desk, papers laying everywhere, and a cute crease between his eyebrows. He’s biting his lip, teeth rubbing over the reddening skin, and he’s humming to himself as he pencils in answers to what appears to be maths exercises._

_Harry looks up and smiles softly at him, all fondness and soft edges._

_“Hey, Lou,” Harry says softly. Louis notices that his eyes are guarded and he wishes they weren’t. “Didn’t see you much at school today.”_

_Louis shrugs again and sits down on the side of Harry’s bed. He drops his school bag down on the floor beside him and lies back against the plush blankets._

_“I’ve been busy,” Louis recites like he’s reading off a list, like it’s a tape recording with monotonous audio, because this has been his excuse for weeks now._

_“So you keep saying,” Harry says a little harshly. Louis turns his head to gaze at him and he hates that Harry looks upset with him._

_“I’m sorry,” Louis tells him because he is. He’s so sorry that his life is fucked up and he’s taking it out on Harry._

_Harry sighs and grabs his books before coming to sit on the bed beside him. He leans over and kisses Harry on the cheek and pokes him in the stomach to make him giggle. He can do this. Harry is his steady anchor and he can make him happy._

_They start on homework and manage to stay preoccupied with that for a while. Usually Louis would be climbing the walls after the first short answer question on his English homework, but today he stays focused. It’s easier focusing on homework than on the fact that he feels like his life is falling apart. Harry keeps giving him concerned glances like he wants to ask what’s wrong, but doesn’t know how to. Louis is glad that Harry can’t find the words._

_“Boys! Biscuits are ready!” Harry’s mum calls from downstairs._

_“Oi, don’t I get cookies too?” Gemma yells from her room._

_Louis stifles a giggle into his hand and Harry teases her as they all walk down the stairs. Anne passes them each a plate to put the fresh out the oven biscuits on, and they all feast on the delicious treats. Anne asks about school and they all tell her about their day. Jay’s been talking with Anne almost every night about what’s been happening over that Tomlinson’s residence, so it’s really not a surprise when she softly asks how Louis is doing and there’s a hint of real concern in her tone. Louis wishes she would just drop it, but he knows she won’t._

_“I’m doing ok,” Louis says, giving her a smile he knows doesn’t reach his eyes. “It’s a lot to deal with but I’m working on it.”_

_He hates asking people for help, especially when it comes to his family. He doesn’t want to have to go to other people to help him figure out his life at home. He should be able to deal with it on his own._

_“Your mother said that you got into the early admission program at school,” Anne says as a way of segueing into a different conversation. Louis would be grateful, except that this conversation might be worse. “You must be excited.”_

_Louis nods and refuses to meet Harry’s burning gaze. He hasn’t exactly told Harry that he got accepted into the early program. He’s supposed to leave in a couple weeks for school in Manchester, but he hasn’t found the time to tell Harry that he’s leaving earlier than he originally planned. There’s been so much on his mind that his future Uni plans have seemed to slip past him._

_“Yeah, I have to be there in a few weeks actually. Don’t get much of a summer,” Louis says quietly. He takes another bite of his biscuit, if only to fill  his mouth so he can’t talk anymore._

_“You got admitted into the early program?” Harry asks, bewildered and probably a little hurt that he’s just now hearing about this._

_Louis shrugs. “It’s not a big deal. Just leaving a little earlier than I was planning on.”_

_He knows that’s utter bullshit. It is a big deal. It’s a big deal for them because they’re going to have to start on their long distance relationship sooner than they thought. It’s going to be difficult, especially with how rocky things have gotten since Mark left. They’d originally planned to have all summer just to chill out and work through things so they’d be strong when it was time for Louis to leave._

_Harry nods and doesn’t say anything else. Louis knows that Anne’s casting glances between two of them, probably frowning, but he can’t look at her without feeling like he’s betraying them all._

_“Well we’ve got some work we need to finish up,” Louis says. He gets up from the table and thanks Anne for the goodies before heading back upstairs. Harry follows close behind._

_“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving so early?” Harry asks in a hurt tone._

_Louis shrugs, his default answer these days, it seems, and sits down on the bed again. “I just forgot to mention it. I’ve been busy.”_

_Harry lets out a frustrated sigh and runs a hand through his hair. Louis doesn’t want to fight, but he can feel one coming. They don’t fight a lot. It’s always strange territory when they end up arguing because they rarely disagree or get angry at each other._

_“What is with you, Louis?” Harry grits out, arms crossed over his chest and eyes staring Louis down._

_“What’s with me?” Louis asks incredulously. “What the hell? My family is literally falling apart around me and you really need to cut me some slack, Harold.”_

_Harry shakes his head and scrubs his face with his hand. “Still doesn’t give you an excuse to act like an utter tit to me.”_

_Louis deflates and puts his own face in his hands. He doesn’t want to be a dick, doesn’t mean to be mean and standoffish, but he’s just so stressed and he really doesn’t need Harry on his case right now._

_“I’m sorry,” Louis says eventually. Harry sits down next to him and neither of them knows what to say._

_“I love you,” Harry says quietly, leaning into Louis’s side._

_Louis reaches up and brushes his fingers through Harry’s hair._

_“I know you do, baby. I love you too,” Louis says into his temple before kissing him there._

_They start to work on homework again but Louis can’t focus anymore. He thinks about leaving in a few weeks to go to University. He thinks about how Zayn’s going to be there with him, be his roommate, but Harry’s going to be here in Doncaster. It’s not that far away, but it still feels like forever and a day. What if Harry finds someone less fucked up and more deserving of his brilliance? Louis tries not to think about it._

_Harry’s the only good thing he’s got left and he doesn’t want to lose him, but at the same time, he doesn’t want to dim Harry’s shine. He doesn’t want to get in the way and drag Harry under with his hectic life and make Harry miss out on great opportunities._

_After a while Harry twists around from where he’s sitting cuddled up next to Louis and kisses his lips softly. There’s no real heat behind it, it’s more like Harry’s letting him know that he’s still here, and it kills Louis. Harry’s so soft and just wants what’s best for him, but Louis is so consumed with anger and sadness that he feels like he’s going to infect the beautiful innocence and happiness that Harry possesses._

_It’s like he’s drowning and trying to fight to the surface, bubbles flowing from his mouth and leaving him breathless and suffocating under all of the pressure of the sea._

_“Hey, Lou. I was listening to this song on the radio the other day, it’s called Look After You and it’s by The Fray, and I really liked it.”_

_Louis knows this is going somewhere, he just has to give Harry time to form his words. He’s always been a slow speaker. Louis sets his pencil down and tries to clear his mind of everything but Harry’s voice._

_“And well I went online and saw this piano version and it’s so pretty. People have videos up of them slow dancing at weddings to it, and I was thinking that’d be a cool song to walk down the aisle to or summat.”_

_Louis knows that Harry’s just talking and not actually making plans or being super serious about it. He knows this, but he can’t help but bristle at the words. How can he be thinking about marriage when Louis is about to leave him for Uni in a few weeks? How can he even think about lifelong commitment right now when the only commitment Louis has ever known, the commitment of being a father and staying together as a family, has literally just been ripped from him?_

_“Louis?” Harry asks tentatively. He reaches out a hand and places it lightly on Louis’ shoulder, but it gets shrugged off almost immediately._

_“Harry, I don’t want to talk about this right now,” Louis says sternly, turning back to his homework._

_“I just…I just thought with you leaving soon…I should let you know about the song so that maybe you could listen to it sometime when you’re away and think about it when you miss me. If you miss me…” Harry trails off and Louis wants to smack him and tell him that of course he’s going to miss him. He stays silent instead. “And, like, I know you’re upset about your home stuff, but you and me, we’re going to work. I just want you to know that I’m still thinking about a future with you and I won’t leave.”_

_It’s the last straw. Louis knows he shouldn’t react the way he does, but he can’t help it. Everything from the past couple of weeks just falls down on top of him and he feels like he’s suffocating. Harry’s just trying to be nice and supportive, and he says things like this all the time and Louis has never tried to discourage it, but right now it’s too much. It’s all too much._

_“Harry, I’m leaving in a few weeks and I really don’t want to talk about the future right now.”_

_Harry gapes at him and pulls away from him. “I didn’t mean to make you angry,” Harry says slowly, like he thinks Louis is a caged animal about to lash out. “I know you’re leaving, but that doesn’t mean we can’t still make plans.”_

_He might be right._

_“I just…how can you possibly be focusing on the future right now? We’ve got final exams at the end of the week and then I’m leaving, and how can you possibly be thinking about wedding stuff right now?” Louis explodes. He stands up and starts pacing back and forth because he’s got so much pent up energy that he doesn’t know what to do with. “It’s ridiculous really, you thinking about weddings at all right now. If you haven’t noticed, my life is a living hell right now, and you want to sit here picking out wedding songs? Don’t you realize I just watched a wedding vow literally crumble beneath my feet?”_

_Harry stands up too and tries to reach out for Louis but he doesn’t want to be touched right now._

_“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset. Please, come sit back down,” Harry urges. He glances at the open door and Louis knows he shouldn’t be too loud and attract attention._

_“No, Harry. I can’t sit down. I can’t sit still. My mind is going a thousand fucking miles a minute and I can’t stop it! I think about Mark slamming that door every single second of every day. I think about leaving you here when I go to school and you finding someone else to be happy with. I think about my mother crying herself to sleep at night and the twins asking where their dad is because they are too young to understand, and the babies wailing in the morning because Mum just went to bed and it’s time for their bottle and she’s passed out on the couch after crying all night long which means I have to be the one to feed them.”_

_He’s breathing hard by the end of his little speech and there are words twisting and turning over his tongue, fighting to escape. He wants to tell Harry that he loves him, he wants to tell him he needs a bit of space, and needs to tell him to never ever let him go. His brain is fuzzy with a hum of words he’ll never be able to voice._

_Harry’s watching him with fearful eyes and Louis hates it. Hates it all._

_“Harry,” he starts and Harry shakes his head._

_“Don’t, no Louis. I know what you are about to say and I’m begging you not to do it,” Harry pleads. He looks two seconds from dropping to his knees and groveling. Louis can’t handle this._

_“Harry, I just…I feel like I can’t breathe sometimes and when you say things about our future, it feels like I’m going to die. I can’t do this,” Louis says through a constricted throat. His heart is screaming at him, telling him he’s an idiot and he needs to shut up._

_“Louis, please don’t. I’m sorry. I won’t talk about our wedding, or kids, or anything past tomorrow afternoon if that’s what you need,” Harry says, voice rough and eyes shining with tears._

_Louis reaches over to the bed and stuffs his books into his bag._

_“Louis,” Harry begs, grabbing his arm._

_“My exams are all papers and I’m just going to email them in. I think I’m going to head down to Manchester early and get a feel for the place.” Louis lips are moving, speaking words he doesn’t want to say. He tries to get himself to stop, but he can’t keep the words in._

_He’s thought about this option, about going down as soon as possible to get away from all the stress. He knows his mum still needs his help, but Lottie’s more than capable of taking on extra responsibility and Fizzy’s old enough to watch the twins while Lottie runs errands. It’ll work. It has to. He just didn’t want to think about this option too much because it meant he would leave Harry sooner. Right now, he’s drowning and leaving for Manchester seems like his way of breaking through the water._

_“Louis, no, please.” Tears are now streaming down Harry’s face, his eyes puffy and red and his lip quivering. He reaches out for Louis and tugs him in._

_Louis kisses Harry’s cheek softly and gives him a tight hug. When he tries to pull away, Harry holds on tight._

_“Harry, stop.” Louis says firmly. He pushes him away and watches Harry’s face fall and a sob course through his body. “I’m leaving, ok. I love you but I can’t do this. Not anymore. I just, I need to go.”_

_Harry’s shaking but Louis can’t stay to watch. He knows if he stays any longer, his resolve will break and he’ll take Harry into his arms and apologize for upsetting him. He’ll tell him that he didn’t mean it until he’s blue in the face and will stay with Harry tonight instead of leaving town._

_Louis runs out of the room, past Gemma’s doorway where he can see her stand up and watch him with confused eyes, and down the stairs, taking them two at a time._

_“Louis, no!” Harry nearly screams, sobbing out his name and chasing after him._

_Louis can hear him bounding down the stairs after him and runs to the door. He can hear Anne calling after him, asking if everything’s alright, and he just can’t do this anymore._

_It’s raining, which really fits the mood. He kissed Harry for the first time as the rain started to fall, and now he’s ending it in a storm._

_He throws his bag in the bed of his old pickup, not caring if his school books get ruined, and revs the engine when he’s safely inside the cab. He can hear Harry screaming out for him from the porch where his mother is hold him back. Louis will forever be thankful for Anne even if she hates him now. He slams his foot down on the gas and tears out of their driveway._

_He glances back in the rearview mirror as he races down the street to see Harry reaching out for him with tears running down his red, blotchy face. All he wants to do is run back and hold him and tell him that he loves him. He can’t though. The further from Harry he drives, the easier it is to breathe. At least that’s what he tells himself._

* * *

 

Two hours and many tears later, Louis arrives at Harry’s childhood home. The shutters are still forest green and Anne’s still got pink flowers growing in her garden out front. The house looks dark save for the flash of the telly screen through the curtains on the main floor. Louis is so scared, he’s shaking.

Louis stands outside of the door for a long time, fist held in the air ready to knock but unable to do so. He can hear voices on the other side of the door, listens as a laugh track plays from the television, and wishes he could have the courage to go inside.

He checks his phone to see if anyone’s texted him and sees that Zayn’s texted him.

_Don’t you leave without fixing this Louis_

Well then. Louis takes a deep breath and knocks lightly on the door. He’s not sure if it’s loud enough to be heard from inside, but he hopes he won’t have to spend another hour working up the courage to knock again.

The door opens and Anne’s standing in the doorway. He hasn’t seen her in years, his second mother who picked him up when he was down, and he can’t breathe. Her laugh lines are more prominent and her hair is highlighted in more silver than dark chocolate brown now, but she’s still beautiful.

“Louis, darling,” she greets. She doesn’t move aside to let him in and her eyes are wary. “What are you doing here so late?”

It’s like she’s chastising him for showing up late on a school night when she knows that he has a strict curfew. Louis suddenly feels like he’s nineteen again and wants to cry even more than before.

“Is Harry here?” he finally manages to say. He has to clear his throat a few times before the words make their way out.

“He is,” she says but stays put, blocking his view of the inside.

“May I see him? I know it’s late but I just…I really need to see him, Anne.” Louis pleads, eyes wide and lips pouted out slightly. “I know you probably don’t want me around your son, but I promise it’s going to be different.”

Anne considers him for a few moments, eyes carefully scanning over his face like she’s trying to decide if he can be trusted.

“I don’t know if he’s going to want to see you,” she tells him eventually. She turns back from the door but doesn’t call out.

Louis realizes that Harry’s probably right on the other side of the door listening in. There’s a few beats of silence before she turns back to Louis and sighs.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. He’s not up to visitors tonight. Maybe tomorrow?” she says with a warm, knowing look in her eye. “You know how he gets sometimes.”

Louis hears a deep grunt from the other side of the door and just wants to push the door open and see his beautiful boy. Well, Harry’s not his boy anymore, but the urge still remains. He just wants to look at him and make sure that he’s ok with his own eyes.

“Alright,” Louis relents, scuffing his polished dress shoes against the sidewalk.

“You look nice dear,” Anne comments and reaches out to give him a side hug. “Big day?”

Louis knows that she knows exactly what was supposed to happen today, but decides to humor her. He really just wants to bash his head against the wall and then grovel on the floor for Harry to see him.

“Yeah, was supposed to get married today,” Louis answers and gives her a small smile.

“Oh yeah? And did you?”

Louis shakes his head and lets out a long sigh. His back hurts from driving so much and he just wants to sleep, preferably with Harry’s arms around him.

“Nah, didn’t feel right. Something was missing. Think it was flower crowns or lack of curls or something,” Louis tries to joke. It falls flat but Anne humors him with a smile.

“I see,” she says with that same knowing tone she used to use when she understood everything Louis couldn’t put into words.

“Please, Anne. I really need to talk to him.” There’s an edge of hysteria in his voice and Louis swallows down all the words he wants to say. This needs to be face to face.

Anne turns back to look inside and makes a motion with her hand, her body swaying a little. She lets out a grunt of disapproval before turning back to Louis.

“Another night, yeah? He’s just being stubborn.”

Louis knows it’s more than that. He knows he’s hurt Harry, maybe even beyond repair. He’s not sure why Anne is even standing there talking to him. She should tell him to leave her son alone because Louis is definitely a terrible person.

“Well, I’ll stop embarrassing myself,” Louis tells her as he turns to leave. “Tell him I’m going to be staying at Mum’s for a few days.”

“I will, sweetie. Have a good night.”

Louis reluctantly starts his car and drives off. He glances into the rearview mirror but Harry’s not standing at the front porch watching him leave anymore.

* * *

 

Louis is already at home when his mother walks in the door followed by his gaggle of siblings. He’s curled under a fuzzy blanket with a cup of tea between his palms. Everyone chatters away as they put their coats up, hair damp from the rain that’s starting to really pour down outside the window. Louis can hear the _patpat_ of the droplets hitting the glass and the outside looks grey and dreary. Maybe he’s just projecting his internal feelings out onto the world.

“Well if it isn’t the runaway bride,” Lottie pipes up as she rounds the corner. She plops down onto the couch next to Louis and gives him a hug.

The rest of the family greets him and Louis mumbles his hellos. They’re all watching him expectantly, surely wanting for an explanation about why they drove an hour and a half to a wedding ceremony that didn’t happen, and why Louis is currently here snuggled on the couch instead of with Harry or back at his own flat. Louis’ not sure he can give them an answer right now.

“Alright, everyone stop crowding. Lottie, go pop some biscuits in the oven,” Jay says before pushing them all away from her eldest son.

Ernest stays behind and watches Louis wish soft, careful eyes. He doesn’t understand the ramifications of what’s happened and he probably doesn’t know who Harry is, but he can see that Louis isn’t his normal bubbly self. The thought of Ernest not knowing who Harry is makes Louis sad. Everyone should know Harry.

“Why aren’t you in your suit?” Ernest asks softly, like he knows that Louis is fragile but too young to understand it all.

“Because I didn’t want to get married,” Louis explains just as softly. It’s like a brother bonding moment or whatever because Ernest flops down next to him and wraps him in his small arms.

“Getting married is gross,” Ernest tells him rather matter-of-factly.

Louis can’t help but smile at him and pull him towards his chest.

“It is gross if you don’t love the person you’re going to marry,” Louis says with a nod.

Ernest is quiet then and pets Louis’ hair. He’s got on a small button down shirt and khakis, all dressed up for the big day. Louis fiddles with one of the buttons on Ernest’s shirt and grounds himself in the solid weight of his baby brother leaning against him.

“Alright, Ernest. It’s late. Time for you to get to bed,” Jay says from behind the couch where she’s been watching them.

Ernest huffs out a breath but it turns into a yawn and Louis smirks at him.

“Can Lou give me a piggyback ride up to my room?” Ernest asks with big blue eyes staring right at Louis. How can he say no to that face?

“Sure, buddy.”

Louis gets up and lets Ernest hop up on his back. Doris is already in her bed with a book in her hand when they get up stairs. He sets Ernest down on his bed and then tells them both to get dressed for bed. When they come back from brushing their teeth Louis gives them each a kiss on the forehead and turns out their light.

It’s quiet when he gets downstairs.  The rest of the family must have gone to their rooms already. He finds his mother in the kitchen pulling a tray of fresh-backed biscuits out of the oven.

“Now we have to save some from the others, but there should be enough for us to have two or three now,” she says, glancing over her shoulder when she hears Louis sit down at the kitchen table.

The biscuits are warm and gooey in his mouth, bursts of molten chocolate and warm dough, and Louis needed this. He needed his family and his mother’s warm hand holding his free one.

“I really fucked up,” Louis says eventually.

“Louis,” she scorns softly but doesn’t say anything more. She’s looking at him with expectant eyes but he doesn’t even know where to start.

“He asked me to be with him, Mom, and I told him no. He asked me to leave Aiden, and I said I couldn’t. I wouldn’t,” Louis says after a heavy silence. “How could I have been so stupid? The second I saw Harry, I should have just run to him and never let go.”

He’d changed into an old pair of ratty sweatpants and a thread-bear t-shirt when he got home so his eyes find the compass on his arm easily. It’s his favorite tattoo, though he’s got several, because he’d chosen to have _Home_ be the North, his True North. He knew, even then, that _Home_ meant Harry.

“Have you talked to him since the wedding?” Jay asks.

“Well, I stopped by his house and Anne came to the door and said he didn’t want to see me, which I understand. I did mess everything up and I hurt him. I just…I want…I need him. I need him back and I don’t know how to do that because I’ve been so terrible to him.” Louis admits. “We’ve been having this…not an affair really, but we’ve been not exactly platonically hanging out or whatever. And I was giving him a false sense of hope.”

“False?” she asks, eyebrows scrunched together and wrinkles becoming more defined around her soft blue eyes. Louis is glad that she’s focusing on that particular part of his confession instead of the fact that he was basically cheating on his fiancé.

“Not false, I guess. I wanted it to be real, but then there was Aiden and I hadn’t figured it all out and I’ve been so scared Mum. I’m been so scared of messing everything up that I’ve done it anyway.”

“I don’t think you’ve messed everything up completely, Louis. Just give him some time.”

Louis doesn’t believe her. He puts his head down on the cool wood of the tabletop and tells his eyes to stop burning with traitorous tears. They weren’t supposed to end up like this. When he’d married Harry in the backyard that beautiful afternoon when they were kids, he’d thought he’d be with Harry forever.

* * *

 

It’s been two weeks since the almost-wedding and Zayn is apparently done with his moping. Louis had stayed with his family for a few days, desperately hoping that Harry would come and see him. He hadn’t and Louis couldn’t conjure up enough courage to go to him and beg only to be rejected again.

He’s currently sitting on his crummy couch in his crummy flat watching an old episode of Gogglebox. Harry had gotten him hooked on it one afternoon and now he’s just wallowing, missing Harry and watching stupid TV.

“Alright Tommo, time to get up,” Zayn says as he enters the room. His hair is a mess from sleeping in and he smells strongly of spray paint. He must be working on a new piece in the quiet of his room.

“No,” Louis says petulantly. “I’m going to sit here and die of boredom and you can’t stop me.”

“Louis get the fuck up and do something about the situation. Go talk to him again!”

“He doesn’t want to see me. I cocked up too many times.” Louis shoves his face into the pillows beside him and thinks maybe he can suffocate himself with them and never have to deal with this issue again.

Zayn sighs and wraps his arms around Louis to hoist him back into a sitting position. When he’s sure that Louis is focusing on what he’s saying again, he starts talking.

“Don’t be an idiot. Harry loves you. He’s loved you for years.” Louis grunts and turns away but Zayn grabs his face and makes Louis look him dead on before continuing. “Have you even entertained the idea that he’s waiting on you to try again? He’s been chasing you since day one, basically. Don’t you think he’s waiting to see if you’re actually going to chase him back?”

Louis has thought of this, actually. He’s spent sleepless nights trying to convince himself that he needs to go see Harry and try to fix this. He’s just too scared to actually do anything about it.

“I’m scared,” Louis says. He’s said it so many times by now that the phrase doesn’t make sense in his own mind anymore.

“Of what?” Zayn asks exasperatedly. He runs a hand through his hair and takes a deep breath. “Harry’s going to love you forever and treat you right. He’s right there. You just have to go and get him.”

It’s not like he doesn’t already know this. He knows that Harry will love him forever if Louis has the courage to ask him to. It’s just…he’s spent so long thinking he wasn’t good enough and now he thinks that he might actually be what Harry wants and needs and it’s a lot to process. He wants to go see Harry, he’s just worried that he’s messed up so badly that Harry’s finally given up on him. He still worries about what Mark said being true.

Zayn doesn’t look like he’s going to budge on the issue and his whiskey eyes are boring right into Louis’ skull. Louis sighs and lets out an irritated groan before getting up and heading to the shower.

* * *

 

Louis’ fingers shake as he knocks on the door. It takes a few moments, but he can hear someone walking around on the other side of the door. When it opens, Harry’s sanding there in low riding flannel pants and a gray torn t-shirt. He’s gorgeously soft-looking and Louis really wants to kiss him silly.

“Hey,” Louis croaks out.

Harry watches him with unreadable eyes and Louis hates it. He’s always been able to tell what’s on Harry’s mind.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, voice hard and unforgiving.

“I’m here to see you, actually.”

“Well I don’t want to see you,” Harry snipes back, crossing his arm and leaning against the doorframe.

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.” Louis tries for a smile but it feels all wrong on his face.

Harry snorts but doesn’t say anything..

“I want to make it up to you. Maybe we can talk a bit and air everything out? Then I can take you to get something to eat?” Louis asks hopefully.

Harry shakes his head and stares disbelievingly at Louis. “Why? So you can leave me again?”

“I left Aiden,” Louis tells him.

“I know,” Harry says with a shrug. “Still won’t stop you from leaving.”

Louis fish mouths for a moment and has to clear his throat a few times to get the words out.

“I’m not going to run again, Harry. I promise.”

“And you think you saying that is going to fix anything? After you’ve run out on me twice? Well more than that, actually, but the two times it really mattered?”

His voice is all sharp knives and vicious bite. Harry’s shoulders are held back and his arms are folded defensively against his chest. Louis wishes he could reach out and pull Harry’s arms down and around him.

“I want to be able to prove to you that this time is going to be different,” Louis tells him after he’s able to think of something other than the way that Harry’s biceps bulge under his t-shirt.

“You had your chance, Louis.”

“I know, I know I did and I cocked it up. Just like I always do. But this time I really mean it, Harry. I’m not going anywhere, I promise you.”

Louis isn’t above begging today. Especially since Harry’s in front of him, breathing the same air, standing there looking like a cherub with his halo of curls that are still mussed from lazing around.

“I don’t believe you. I thought last time you were done running, that you’d finally made your choice and settled down, but you hadn’t. I can’t let you do that to me again.”

“Please, Harry,” Louis says, voice wavering and hand reaching out.

Harry pulls away from him before he can wrap his fingers around his arm.

“It’s time for you to go, Louis.”

The door shuts in Louis’ face and he slumps down to his knees, all of the energy leaving his body at once. This is exactly what he was afraid of.

* * *

 

The next morning Louis wakes up with a headache from too much tequila and moaning over his lost love. There’s a sticky note attached to his face and he pulls it off gently.

_Keepppp tryinggggg!! xx Payno_

Louis sighs and stretches before standing up and brushing the foul taste of stale tequila from his mouth with minty toothpaste.

Keep trying. Right.

Harry said he didn’t think Louis was in it for the long haul. Well, it’s time for Louis to prove him wrong.

Louis drives to the little flower shop that Harry took him to for wedding flowers. The same woman is behind the counter, her nametag reading Lou, and Louis smirks at it before meeting her eye.

“Can I help you?” she asks, eyeing him.

There’s no doubt that she remembers who he is. There’s also not any doubt that she knows about the mess he’s in.

“Yes, I’d like to buy a flower crown made of white roses and a bouquet of,” Louis tells her, pulling out a piece of paper to show her the list of flowers he wants. He’d google searched last night for flower meanings and came up with a couple to go in a bouquet.

_Forget-Me-Nots: True Love/Memories_  
Hyacinth (Purple and Blue): “I’m sorry, please forgive me” and Constancy  
Primrose: I can’t live without you

She pauses to contemplate him for another moment and glances down at the list, smiling softly to herself as she reads over the flower choices. She excuses herself and to the back to work on the crown and arrange the bouquet. Louis walks around the shop as he waits and eyes all the different types of plants. He might have to buy this entire shop before this is all over and he can feel his wallet weeping in his pocket.

“Here you are,” Lou tells him a few minutes later. She’s bundled up the bouquet of flowers and has a pristine and perfectly circular flower crown ready for him.

“Thanks,” Louis says and hands over his card. She scans it and an awkward silence builds as he waits for the transaction to process.

“Hurt him again and I cut your dick off,” she tells him nonchalantly, like she’s tell him about the weather outside. It’s overcast today which isn’t helping with Louis’ mood.

Louis nods and accepts his receipt and flowers. “Noted.”

He rushes out of the flower shop worried for the safety of his dick and jumps into his car. It’s not a far drive to Harry’s flat from the shop but the traffic is slow and the pregnant grey clouds above him look ready to pop.

Harry’s actually coming out of the flat as Louis makes it to the last step. He’s got the bouquet in one hand and the flower crown looped around his other arm as he tries to catch his breath from running up the stairs so quickly.

“H,” he huffs, bending over a little and panting. “Wait.”

Harry quickly turns to him – apparently Louis has startled him – and takes in the flowers with wide eyes.

“What are you doing?” Harry asks, jaw gaping open.

“I brought you flowers,” Louis states, holding out the bouquet. He sucks in a quick breath and ushers the words out quickly, a blush crawling up his cheeks. “There are a lot of flowers in it that have many meanings because I know you like the way flowers mean something. Here’s the list of meanings, found them on Google, and I just wanted you to have them.”

He then steps forward hesitantly so that Harry doesn’t have to reach too far for the bouquet and proffered list. Harry takes the flowers and paper wordlessly and won’t meet Louis’ eyes.

“I got you a crown, too,” Louis offers shyly, suddenly feeling terribly stupid. Flowers were probably a shit idea.

“Thanks,” Harry says softly, eyes on the soft petals of the colorful bouquet.

He lets Louis place the crown atop his curls and adjust it so the flower buds are all facing the right way.

“Beautiful,” Louis whispers, more to himself than to Harry.

He watches a soft pink blush crawl up Harry’s neck and spread across his cheeks. He’ll count that as a win.

“I need to get going,” Harry says, nodding towards the steps. He takes a few steps away from Louis and his eyes get darker as he seems to shake himself from his momentary bashfulness. “Thanks for the flowers, I guess.”

“No problem,” Louis tells him with a wave of a hand. “Just wanted to do something nice.”

Harry watches him carefully for an extended beat before nodding to himself and exiting down the stairs on clumsy feet. Louis watches him go and wishes that things were simpler.

* * *

 

He sees Harry in Sainsbury a few weeks later after leaving him countless soppy love letters taped to his door each morning. He never gets a reply, of course, but the letters are always gone the next morning when he posts a new one to the door. Zayn thinks he’s being romantic and Liam snickers at him as he hunches over the table and tries to think of lyrical, beautiful ways to say “I’m a dick-face and I was stupid, but I’m hopelessly in love with you.”

It’s hard work winning back the love of your life.

In some ways, though, Louis is glad that he has to work for this. If Harry had just taken him back, Louis would have had this sinking feeling in the back of his mind that things were too easy. They needed to hash everything out, still do, and he realizes that he needs to earn back Harry’s affections after being such an awful person.

Harry’s always loved him and has always followed wherever Louis has lead. Maybe it’s time the tables turned.

Louis is walking through the razor and shaving cream isle, eyes trained on the different foaming creams and trying to figure out which one is cheapest. Why are there so many brands of literally the same thing? It’s deceptive packaging that says this shaving cream should be two pounds more because it has a guy with a more defined jaw on the front then the box below it.

Louis reaches out and grabs the cheapest box he can find. Zayn normally does the shopping for all of their shaving cream because he has a certain kind he absolutely has to use and he refuses to compromise, but he’s sick in bed with the sniffles, Liam refusing to leave his side, and Louis has been sent on errand duty. He isn’t paying twenty pounds for a small bottle of luxurious shaving cream even if Zayn will throw a hissy fit later.

“You’re going to get razor burn with that stuff,” a deep voice says behind him.

Louis tries to control the smile that graces his lips and fails. He spins around to see Harry standing behind him with a razor in his hand, one of those nice expensive electric ones that move with the contours of your jaw and supposedly don’t cut you when you’re in a rush.

Louis self-consciously reaches up and scrubs a hand over his thickening beard. They’ve been out of shaving supplies for a few days now, no one particularly interested in popping into the mart down the street. They all look good with beards anyway, so it’s not really a big deal. Louis just prefers less stubble most of the time, especially when talking to pretty boys.

“How do you know it won’t be good for my face?” Louis asks, quirking his eyebrow and shifting his weight to one foot so he can pop out his hip. It’s his natural flirty stance and the way Harry’s lips tug into a small smirk shows that he knows exactly what Louis is doing.

“'Cause it’s cheap and your face has always been sensitive,” Harry tells him with a shrug like he’s explaining why the sky is blue.

“Oh yeah?” Louis challenges, though it’s a stupid thing to say because they both know the answer and he sounds a bit like a petulant child.

“Mmhmm,” Harry murmurs as he reaches up and traces the pad of his index finger across the skin of Louis’ neck, a small little circle about half way between his shoulder and jaw. “‘Specially right there.”

Louis fights back the shiver that attempts to run down his spine because Harry is touching him. He feels like a stupid primary-schooler with a crush because his skin ignites under the simple touch. It’s a stupid finger, for God’s sake, but his body has been starving for Harry’s gentle hands for months now.

Louis’ nose is accosted with the smell of sweet cologne and apple scented shampoo as Harry leans around him and picks up a red box with a masculine face on the front. He watches as Harry’s eyes scan the box quickly before handing it to Louis.

“This should work fine. Tell Zayn that it’s just the cheaper version of what he normally uses and he’ll be fine,” Harry says, eyes skirting around Louis’ face but never connecting with his eyes.

“Harry,” Louis tries, wishes beyond hope that Harry will stay just a few moments more and let him say his peace.

“I’ll see you around, Louis,” Harry says with a small smile before walking down the aisle and out of sight.

Louis groans and leans against the rack of shaving cream in front of him. A few boxes fall down beside him and he can’t be assed to care.

* * *

 

Countless love letters and even a few dozen roses of different colors and meanings sent to Harry’s doorstep later, Louis is about to pull his hair out. He wants Harry back so badly he thinks he might be going mad.

It’s been nearly three months since the wedding and Louis is starting to lose hope. Harry hasn’t returned any of Louis’ texts asking if they can talk, hasn’t replied to any of his letters, and hasn’t spoken to him since the previous month at Sainsbury.

Louis is leaning against the railing of their balcony watching a stray dog rustle through some trash in the ally when his phone vibrates in his pocket. His fits the cigarette he’s been leisurely puffing on in between his lips to retrieve the device and scans the message from Niall.

_Out of town for the weekend. Taking Babs to meet the parents_

Louis raises his eyebrow at his phone as if asking for more information and reaches up with his free hand to pull the cigarette out from between his teeth so he can continue puffing in the carcinogens. He contemplates Niall’s words, and while he’s happy that Niall’s found a girl he deems worthy enough to expose to the small little town of Mullingar where everyone knows everyone, he’s not sure why Niall’s telling him this. They haven’t talked much since the non-wedding.

_Congrats_ , Louis texts back. He’s a nice person and honestly happy for Niall finding happiness. Even if it stings a bit thinking of what he could have had.

_Thanks but I’m telling you cuz you should do something about me not being here_

Louis tilts his head and his fringe falls into his eyes. He pushes back his stubborn hair and considers how to respond.

_What do you mean ??_

It takes a minute or two for Niall to answer back and by the time Louis’ phone vibrates in his hand, his cigarette is on its last few puffs.

_Make your move_

Louis groans. He’s already made his move! Countless moves! He’s written letters and flowers, not to mention he’s spent sleepless nights pining in his bed and looking through a stack of pictures he hasn’t dared to look at in years, found neatly stuffed in the back of his closet in an old shoebox because he is obviously a cliché.

_He doesn’t want to see me Niall_

Within seconds Niall texts back a simple _Don’t be an idiot_ and that’s the end of that.

* * *

 

Louis is fairly certain that he isn’t about to burn the entire flat down with his horrible cooking skills and he counts this as a victory. None of the food appears to have burned to a crisp, maybe a little well done and the chicken might be a bit dry, but he’s proud of his success. There’s homemade mash sitting in a bowl, cooling down and mostly clump free, and the room smells like melted cheese; mozzarella and parmesan cheese to be exact.

He glances around for the time, the clock not hanging where it would be in his flat, and notices that he probably only has a few more minutes until his life is officially over.

He’s just finished lighting a candle and setting a piece of parma ham wrapped chicken on each plate when he hears the jingle of keys and a lock unlatching. A door creaks behind him and Louis holds his breath.

He watches Harry throw his keys down on the counter and ruffle his hair a bit, seeming not to have noticed that Louis is standing a few feet from him. It takes a moment, but Harry gets there. When he does realize that Louis is standing in the kitchen next to a candle lit dinner with the smell of food permeating the air, his face is almost comical.

“What are you doing in my flat?” Harry asks a bit shell shocked, eyes wide and full of questions.

“Cooking you dinner,” Louis replies, motioning to the food on the table.

“But…how did you even get in here?” Harry asks, still dumbfounded and glued to his spot. After a moment of consideration, he adds, “You don’t cook.”

Louis graciously ignores the last comment.

“Niall let me have his spare key.”

Harry nods, eyes roaming over the pots on the stove and the cooking sheet laid out on the counter. He then looks to Louis with a quirked eyebrow.

“I’m cooking you dinner and I’d like for you to at least try it before you decide to order take out.”

Harry takes a step forward before thinking better of it and staying put.

“Why are you cooking me dinner?”

“I want to be spontaneous and cook you dinner, why is that a bad thing? I know I can’t cook worth shit but I tried really hard and I want you to have a bite,” Louis says while he sits down at one of the place settings. He hopes Harry will follow suit and actually sit down instead of just walking out.

Harry relents eventually after Louis makes a show of cutting up his chicken and taking a bite.

“I still don’t understand what you’re doing here,” Harry says as he sits and begins to eat. He makes a pleased little sound when he takes a bite of the mashed potatoes.

“Mashed ‘em myself,” Louis tells him instead of replying, puffing out his chest proudly. It’s not a big feat but he still feels like he’s accomplished something.

Harry looks at him approvingly, almost like he’s proud of him too.

They eat in companionable silence and it’s nice, if only a little tense. Louis hasn’t been around Harry in a while and something inside his chest loosens when he’s got Harry in his line of sight.

“This was good,” Harry says after he’s taken his last bite. Louis feels a swell of pride in his chest and Harry’s eyes are less guarded than they normally are so Louis will take what he can get.

“Glad you liked it.”

“Didn’t think you could cook,” Harry teases lightly as he grabs their plates and takes them to the sink.

“Didn’t know I could ‘til today.”

The atmosphere becomes thick with unspoken words and miscommunicated feelings. Louis thinks that he can reach out and touch the tension like a living, breathing, scared animal with its hackles raised in defense if he imagines hard enough.

“Harry-”

“Thanks for dinner Louis, but I’m tired and I want to have an early night,” Harry says to the suds in the sink as he methodically washes the plates.

“No.”

It takes all of his strength to keep his feet firmly planted next to the table. He doesn’t want to run out the door, which is a good sign. He just wants to run to Harry and hold him tight. The candle is flickering still, wax dripping down the sides and pooling in the holder. The last wisps of cheese and baked chicken fragrance the air.

Harry watches him as he puts the plates back into the soapy water. He stands there for a few moments of heavy silence, watching Louis closely, and Louis thinks that maybe he’s waiting for him to run.

“I told you I’m not running again, Harry,” Louis says, voice surprisingly strong even if his insides are quaking.

Harry nods with furrowed brows and turns to Louis, crossing his arms and leaning his hip against the counter by the sink.

“You aren’t?”

“Nope.” He makes sure to pop the ‘p’ just to be obnoxious. It wins him the briefest of smiles.

Another point for Louis.

“And what makes you so sure?” Harry questions. Louis can see where his fingernails are digging into his biceps as if to ground himself in the feeling of pain and Louis wants to take his hands and make him stop. He can’t. Not yet.

“Because I am stupidly in love with you and I never ever want to leave you again.”

All of the walls and pretenses that Harry has been trying to keep up come crashing down right before his eyes. He looks like he’s sixteen again with wide, vulnerable eyes and bitten red lips. Harry seems to shrink into himself and Louis hates it. He only ever wants to build him up, not tear him down.

“But you did leave me. So many times, Lou. I can’t get hurt like that again. I won’t.”

Harry may look all vulnerable and cherubic, but his resolve hasn’t shaken much. There was the use of a nickname though, so maybe Louis is getting somewhere.

“I know, Harry. I know I left you and it tears me up inside every single day thinking about the many times I’ve made you upset or left you lonely. It kills me.” Louis starts off strong, but by the end, his voice has withered away and frays around the seams.

Harry reaches up to play with his bottom lip, eyes appraising Louis as he lets Louis’ words settle in. Louis has told him how sorry he is a million times over in the letters and the flowers and the way he looks at him, but he wonders if Harry’s ever believed him.

“I love you,” Louis says, makes sure his voice is strong and loud.

Harry’s eyes begin to fill with tears and Louis isn’t sure whether they are good tears or not.

“Lou-”

“No, let me talk, Harry. I need to get this out.” Harry nods incrementally and Louis takes a deep breath. He’s been thinking of everything he needs to say for months now, but right now he’s drawing a blank. He just starts to ramble instead. Rambling sometimes works, he figures. “I have loved you since you were sixteen and kissed me for the first time. I have loved you since the day you first put flowers in your hair and your curls fell into your face. I have loved you since you smiled wide at me with your obnoxious signs, cheering me on from the bleachers every time I scored a goal in school. I have loved you since you agreed to help me practice into the early hours of the morning. I have loved you since you looked down at Doris and Ernest and called yourself their brother-in-law while they slept.”

Harry smiles at the memory and Louis counts it as another point.

“I have loved you since I told you I couldn’t do this anymore and left for Manchester. I have loved you since I saw you staring out that stupidly large window at that God awful venue we went to that first time. I have loved you since you swallowed your fear and sang with your friend’s band that night at the pub. I have loved you since I saw that you got fucking tattoos for us permanently inked on your chest-”

“Lou,” Harry chokes out. There are tears spilling like rivers over his cheeks and his eyes are puffy.

“Let me finish,” Louis whispers, voice hoarse with emotion and his body shaking with the amount of feelings coursing through his body. “I have loved you since we made love in your bed.” Harry makes another choking sound and steps towards him. Louis holds out a hand to stop him. “And I have loved you, Harry Styles, every single moment in between. Even when we were miles apart and I was sure that you hated me with all of your being, I have never stopped loving you with all of mine. I will spend the rest of my life trying to prove to you that I will not run and that I love you.”

That might have been the sappiest thing that Louis has ever done but by the look on Harry’s face, he’s done something right for a change.

“I swear to you, with everything that I have, that I will never run away from you again. You’re it for me, Harry.”

Harry stands a few inches from him but doesn’t reach out. Louis wants to scream and cry because he has literally just bared his soul, something that he never thought he’d be able to do, and Harry still isn’t touching him.

“I’m scared,” Harry admits quietly, fingers curling into his jeans as if he’s fighting off the urge to touch Louis.

What a turnaround this has been, Louis thinks as he watches Harry’s tense body before him.

“I know you are, H, but I promise I won’t leave again. I promise.”

Harry looks down at his pigeon toes and bites at his lip.

“You really hurt me, Louis, and I can’t just let that go. Not again,” Harry says finally, looking up from the floor and into Louis’ eyes.

“I know,” Louis says softly. He knows this doesn’t fix everything. “But maybe you can give me another chance? I want to prove to you that I can be better.”

Harry considers this for a few moments, seeming to toss the idea around in his head and feel the weight of the proposition on his tongue.

“I love you Louis,” Harry tells him, eyes focused and brows furrowed. “But if you run again, you don’t come back,” Harry warns, eyes growing hard and voice surprisingly steady for the way tears are still trickling down his face.

“I won’t run,” Louis repeats, needing to get that through Harry’s head. “I won’t run.”

“But if you do, that’s it.”

“That’s it,” Louis echoes. He feels like he should be terrified of the ultimatum but he’s not. He knows he won’t leave Harry again. He quickly does a check through with his brain to see what it’s telling him and how his feet feel, firmly planted on the ground, and realizes that the itch to hightail it out of the flat is nonexistent. Good.

“Ok, then,” Harry says, inching forward a little more.

“So, we can try again?” Louis asks, hopeful and ready to bounce up on his tippy toes to meet Harry half way. “I’ll be yours, and you’ll be mine, and we’ll try to work this out? You and me, against the world and all that?”

Harry smiles down at him, still a bit tentative but full of affection. Harry’s eyes sparkle like emeralds glinting in the afternoon sunlight and his long wavy hair falls a bit into his face. Louis reaches up and pushes the hair behind his ear and then decides to keep his hand buried in the softness he finds there.

“Truth be told, Louis. I was always yours,” Harry says before sealing their lips together. Harry’s face is still wet with tears and they’re smiling too much for a proper kiss, all teeth and breathy giggles, but it’s everything Louis will ever want.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God it's over! My first ever fic is officially over! I don't even know how to feel about this.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it! I'm thinking about doing an Epilogue at some point, but that's only if you guys tell me you want one. Let me know!
> 
> [Check out the playlist for this story!](http://8tracks.com)
> 
> Tumblr: donnyscheshire


End file.
